Sound of Her Voice
by alaricnomad
Summary: Lucas/Peyton. The sound of her voice, scared but trusting, brought up in him things he'd never been able to forget. But Fear is a harsh opponent. One Lucas is ready to fight to the end, to get back the love of his life. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1: Midnight Caller

**Sound of Her Voice**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter One: Midnight Caller**

Lucas Scott was awoken from a deep sleep by the sound of crying. The shrill screams resounded through the usual nightly silence enveloping his childhood home, originating from only one likely source. He groaned irritably, rubbing a hand over his face in a tired gesture as he swung his legs to the side of the couch and rose.

He winced as he straightened and stretched his arms, several vertebrae popping as his back arched. He hated sleeping on the couch.

Lucas pulled on his t-shirt with a sigh, and made his way down the hallway toward his mother's bedroom. As he half-walked, half-stumbled, the sound of the crying grew loudly audible, even more so as he cautiously opened the door to Karen's room and peeked inside.

Pallid moonlight spilled in through the window, illuminating the rousing silhouette on the bed, his exhausted mother, and the squirming infant in the cradle nearby. Lucas made his way to the baby's side, watching out of the corner of his eye as Karen sat up, bleary-eyed and disoriented, squinting up at him through the darkness.

"Lucas?"

"Hey, Mom. Don't worry about it. I got him."

She sighed softly, nestling back against her cocoon of blankets. "You sure?"

Lucas lifted his brother into his arms and instantly, the baby quieted, sniffling against his shoulder. "Yeah, you've been up with him all week. Let me take him."

"Hmm…you're a good boy, Luke."

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her forehead as he tucked her covers around her shoulders. The baby murmured against his neck, restless, as their mother's breathing evened out into the light, steady rhythm of sleep. Lucas smiled softly, quietly making his way out of the bedroom, padding down the hallway back toward the living room, then to the kitchen.

The baby cradled in one arm, he moved through the familiar motions of preparing a bottle, rocking gently as he hummed softly, losing himself in thought.

His half-brother, his cousin, whatever relationship one would prefer, had come into the world eight months before, a healthy, howling eight pounds, three ounces, and twenty-two inches whom Karen dubbed Keith Michael Scott, Jr. The whole thing, from the moment Keith was killed, to when his mother revealed the baby's existence to him, the months of her pregnancy, and his brother's coming into the world, all worked as an explosive catalyst that brought wave after wave of change to his comfortable world.

It was a poignant melancholy that accompanied Michael's birth, knowing that while the baby was a piece of Keith left in the world, his little brother would never know that man Lucas would have been proud to call his father. He was, in every sense of the word, the only father Lucas had ever wanted to know, to love, to help create the memories he now cherished, to help mold him into the man he was today.

He checked the temperature of the formula mixture against his skin, shifting the squirming infant at his shoulder as he exited the kitchen and returned to the living room, seating himself in on the couch, pressing the bottle to the child's mouth.

He really was the sweetest thing, Lucas had to admit, a thick thatch of rusty brown hair that curled around ears a little too large for his heart-shaped face, doe brown eyes, dimples when he smiled. And he was generally kind to his mother and older brother, a normally sound sleeper who rarely cried throughout the night with the exception of occasions like this one.

He looked a lot like his father, though his features were softened greatly by their mother's influence, delicate for a boy-child, but Lucas had the distinct feeling that by puberty, his little bro would be bearing the same rugged looks that marked all the Scott men.

Lucas smiled lightly as Michael sucked greedily at the bottle, finishing it off with a loud, slurping sound, and Lucas tilted him against his shoulder to burp him.

That one would probably drive Karen crazy. She had always joked with Lucas that there was something so irresistible about Scott boys she could never quite get rid of them, as if she was destined to be surrounded by them her whole life. She was probably right.

Lucas was drawn back from his reflections by the sound of his young brother yawning, nestling close against his shoulder. Lucas gently rubbed his back, mimicking what he had seen his mother do countless times before, murmuring soft, comforting words that relaxed the tiny body in his arms until he heard the slow, easy, rhythmic breathing of sound slumber.

He slumped against the sofa cushions, his jaw unhinging to encompass the large yawn that escaped him, tiredly rubbing his hand over his face. His lids grew heavy, eyes closing of their own accord as he laid back his head.

The thin fog of drowsy sleepiness that held his mind was broken by a sudden noise, the muted reverberation of his cell phone vibrating against the coffee table. Cursing under his breath, he blindly groped around for the offending device, finally feeling it beneath his fingers, and with a muffled groan, he flipped it open, bringing it to his ear.

"Hello?" Even to his own ears, his voice sounded hoarse and thick with sleep.

There was a strange sound of static on the other end of the line, and then nothing but silence, stretching out for several moments until the lack of response grated on his already roughened nerves.

"Hello? Listen, if this is a joke, I'm not in the mood. It's late, in case you haven't noticed."

There was the sound of a muffled sob, and then the small, barely audible whisper of//Luke?//

For that point on, he would have to swear that at that moment, he felt his heart skip several beats at that single utterance of his name, spoken in a voice that haunted his days and nights, his thoughts and his dreams. "Peyton?"

Another sob, a broken, pained sound that pulled at his heartstrings. He swallowed hard, letting his eyes flutter close. "Peyt, sweetheart, is that you?" The endearment rolled off his tongue easy and smooth as silk, the lingering pain in his heart left by her absence in his life steadily growing to a tangible ache the longer he knew she was there.

//Yeah, Luke…it's me//

He sighed, speaking softly as he could while still keeping his voice audible. "What's wrong? You sound like you're crying."

//Do you…// she hesitated, sounding unsure of herself//Do you know what today is?//

His brow furrowing quizzically, he lifted the phone from his ear, squinting down at the glowing screen to check date and time, eyes widening with realization as understanding filled his mind. The anniversary of her mother's death. "Oh, Peyt, I'm sorry. How are you handling things?"

She laughed softly, little humor in the sound, followed by a small sniffle that accompanied it. //Honestly, I'm a mess. I'm sorry, Lucas, I know it was stupid of me to call out of the blue like this. I held it together all day, but then I got home, and I just fell apart. I couldn't handle it anymore, and I couldn't think of whom else to talk to. I'm sorry, I should hang up--//

"No!" he winced as he realized how loud he had spoken, warily watching Michael for signs of rousing, releasing a relieved sigh as the child stayed still. "No, don't worry about it. I've told you before, I'm here for you, Peyton. You know I love being that guy you can talk to."

//…I'm glad…as long as you're sure I'm not being a bother…//

"Not at all. I just have to be a bit quiet."

//Yeah, I was wondering about that. Why are you whispering?//

He chuckled, glancing down the obliviously sleeping infant in his arms. "I have little Mike. He's decided he likes me better than the crib."

//Oh…is it still okay to talk? We won't wake him up?//

"Nah. Like I said, as long as I speak softly, it'll be fine."

//That's good. How is he, by the way? I haven't seen him since mid-winter break. He was so tiny then//

"Well, he's definitely not so tiny anymore. He's healthy as a horse and he's looking more and more like his old man every day."

//That's good to hear. I bet Keith would be so proud of him, the both of you//

He grinned, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, maybe, maybe not. Of him, I'm certain, not so sure about me."

//C'mon, Luke. You're a good guy, taking off a year to take care of your mom and your brother, sticking it out through the mess last year. That takes guts, and real commitment. I like that about you, Luke."

"Yeah?" he laughed again, raking his hand through his hair, "I'm flattered you think so highly of me."

//You should be, Scott. I don't hold just anyone in such high regard//

"Well, Sawyer, I'll be sure to keep that in mind. But seriously, Peyton, are you alright?"

She sighed. //Yeah…It just helps to talk to someone…especially you, Luke. I have to admit, it's been a while//

"It has been, hasn't it? So…"

//So?//

"So…its summer break, isn't it? Why haven't you come to visit?"

//I don't know…I've got a lot of work to do…I'm not sure I'll make it home right away…//

"That's too bad. Everybody's coming home for the vacation. Nathan and Haley are flying in next week from Stanford."

There was a pause on the other line, and then she hesitantly questioned him. //…Brooke too…?//

"…Yeah…actually, she's sleeping in the other room. She's staying in my room, so I'm couched for a while."

//Ah. How…how are you guys doing? Still going strong?//

"Yeah, I suppose. It's hard, I guess, having her all the way in New York, but we manage," he paused, "Peyton, do you really want to talk about me and Brooke?"

She exhaled sharply, releasing a long expanse of air, and huffed out a laugh. //No, you're right. I really don't. I dream about it, y'know, things back in Tree Hill. Sometimes I just get so nostalgic that I remember things...high school, my dad, Nathan and Haley and Brooke…you and me…//

"Yeah?"

//Yeah…//

He sighed, readjusting Michael's place in his arms. He wondered how it was that his heart could thunder so loudly, so rapidly. "I miss you, Peyt."

//…I miss you too…every day…//

"It's always there…Peyton…it never goes away…"

//I know, but the more we think about it…//

"The more it hurts," he finished for her, his throat tight with emotion.

//Exactly// if he didn't know any better, he would have said he heard the threat of tears once more in her voice. //I should go, Luke. It's getting late//

"Yeah, you're probably right."

//Hey, Luke?//

"Yeah?"

//Thank you//

"Anytime. I'll be seeing you, Peyton."

He waited until he heard the unmistakable click of her hanging up the phone, and then the dial tone that followed. He turned off the cell, sighing as his head slumped back against the couch pillow, his eyes closing in thought. He did not hear the approaching figure making its way through the house until a slender hand rested against his shoulder.

Lucas nearly jumped from the shock, his eyes flying open to take in the sight of his girlfriend standing behind him. "Brooke?"


	2. Chapter 2: When You Say You Love Me

**Sound of Her Voice**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Two: When You Say You Love Me…**

"Brooke? What are you doing up so late?"

In the dark, her eyes were unreadable, but he could see her lips curve into a smile. He caught a flash of creamy skin exposed by the long shirt, one of his, that barely reached her knees, as she moved forward behind him. She linked her arms around his neck, and he could feel the palpable heat of her body as she leaned forward, the soft press of her breasts against his back.

Oddly enough, he wondered why his mind did not react with more than the spark of mild arousal that came with pure male appreciation. If he wanted to, he could chalk such a thing up to the late hour and his physical exhaustion, but with his mind still reeling with emotions that were purely Peyton-influenced, he knew he would only be fooling himself.

Brooke's voice in his ear was light and pleasant, just barely more audible than a whisper. "Couldn't sleep. Mikey giving you and Karen trouble?" she asked, indicating the sleeping child.

"Nah. Not too much. I'll probably put him back down soon."

She nodded, pressing a light kiss to his neck as she leaned her head against his. "Who was on the phone, babe?"

"The phone? What do you mean?"

She quirked one fine brow. "You were just on the cell, right? Who was it calling so late?"

"Oh." He turned his face away, waving his hand dismissively. "Nobody really. Just a friend. "

"Just a friend…right…" her tone was quizzical, mildly accusing, "This friend have a name?"

He shifted, shrugging. "Does it really matter? An old friend needed to talk, big deal."

"It's a big deal because you're purposely leaving something out."

Lucas scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

"You won't even look at me, Lucas. You're lying, and I have no idea why you are. Thing is…I wonder why so simple a question gets you to shut down so quickly…what is it, Lucas Scott, that makes you so defensive?"

"It's nothing, Brooke. Maybe if you didn't make it sound like I was doing something wrong from the beginning, I wouldn't be defensive or secretive. What's so suspicious…what's so misleading? All the time, dammit, it's like you think if you give me an inch, I'll go and sleep with every girl in the county."

She pulled away from him, her lips pursing as her eyes grew bright and angry. "Where do you get off? Who's accusing who? You're making it sound like I smother you. I'm hundreds of miles away most of the year, so yeah, maybe I don't trust you not to chase a few skirts. You've done it before, and I was right there with you every day."

"Brooke," he whispered viciously, scowling darkly, "Are you still talking about junior year? Can you _never _forgive me for that?

"What reason are you giving me to trust you, Lucas? You being distant and moody ever since I got back, making late night phone calls to persons unknown. What the hell am I supposed to think?"

"Jesus, you always do this! Just like all that shit with Peyton in high school."

"Peyton?" her voice continued to rise up an octave, severely threatening to reach a shout, "Who said anything about Peyton?"

"Brooke, I…" He could not help it, as the inevitable guilt blanketed his expression. His girlfriend's reaction was instantaneous.

Her face clouded, and then flashed with fleeting emotions…bewilderment, anger, understanding, and then bitter, furious betrayal. "Is that who you were talking to? Your 'old friend'? That's real rich, Scott, calling your old fuck buddy late at night when I'm right in the next room. That's perfect."

He gritted his teeth, rising to his feet while balancing Michael against his shoulder, not look directly at her for fear of inciting more of an argument. "It's not like that. Maybe if you trusted me a little more, you wouldn't think something so ugly about me. Yeah, it was Peyt. But take a look at a calendar, Brooke. Maybe then you'll realize why she called me."

He paused as he came to the doorway, his back facing her, and Brooke found herself hit by the impression of just how different he seemed from the boy she had left behind to pursue her dreams in New York City. Though rigid as a pole and practically radiating tension, his frame was tall and broad, shoulders strong and wide, far more so in the past year than she recalled him. He had grown, changed, matured, becoming a man where she could not see. Her heart in her throat, she could not form another word.

"Go to sleep, Brooke. We'll talk about this in the morning." With that, he disappeared into the opaque dark of the hallway, evidently making his way toward his mother's bedroom, and she watched him go, unable to do anything but obey a few moments later.

-----------------

Lucas woke up the next morning, his back sore from a night on the couch, doggedly tired and bleary-eyed as he stumbled his way into the kitchen, met with the sight of his girlfriend sitting quietly and somberly at the dining table, coffee mug in hand.

He sighed as he crossed the room to the coffee maker, pouring himself a cup. He took a sip, tentatively looking at her over the rim. "Morning, pretty girl," he said softly, attempting to smile at her, though he was not sure he did all that well.

She returned his smile, though the gesture came out weak and wan, more than likely quite like his own. "Good morning."

"Listen, Brooke, about last night. I'm sorry, I was out of line-"

She held up a hand, and he complied to the unspoken command, effectively cutting off his speech. "Don't. I looked at the calendar. I get it, Luke…deep down, I think I always have, but I didn't want to believe it."

His brow furrowed with confusion, and he opened his mouth to question her, but one stern glance had him deciding otherwise. She continued on.

"We've had our good times, babe, we really have, but they've been few and far between. Thing have to change, Lucas."

He tried to speak once more, but before he could make one audible sound, she motioned to the doorway. He turned his head, following her indication, and saw her suitcases full and packed by the entrance to the living room.

"Brooke…"

"It's time I was honest, I guess, and just put an end to all these games we've been playing. I met someone…in New York, and I like him, Luke, I really like him. I came home in hopes that there was something worth salvaging between us. Obviously…I was wrong."

He stared, disbelieving. "Brooke, you know I…" he trailed off, choking off the intended words, somehow unable to finish them.

"Love me? No, Lucas, you don't. Not the way you think you do."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Cause I feel it…"

He smiled faintly. "Feel it in your heart?"

"Yeah." She gave him a questioning look, and he shrugged.

"That meant something once, to truly feel something in my heart." He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "Does he treat you well?"

"Yeah, he does."

"Then I wish you luck." He shuffled his feet, draining down the last of his coffee. "Are you leaving, or have you found some place to stay?"

"I'll get a room at the inn. I'll stick around a little longer, just cause I miss this place sometimes. Besides, Naley's coming home soon, right?"

"Yeah, real soon."

"All the more reason. I don't turn tail and run, Luke, and I'm not going to run from you, from us…whatever we were, whatever we become."

He nodded, listened to the faint honking outside that signaled the arrival of her cab, his offers to carry her bags falling on deaf ears, staring unseeing at the morning outside as she pecked his cheek and walked out of his life.

He heard the door slam shut, and he closed his eyes, unable to fully dismiss reminiscence about a high school library, and a curly-haired blonde who had him feeling deep in his heart, that they were truly meant to be.

----------------

For a long moment, Peyton could do nothing but stare at the phone in her hand, unable to wrap her head around the conversation that had just taken place. "Stupid, so stupid," she murmured to herself, rapping her knuckles against her forehead as she fell back on her bed with a sigh.

What had possessed her to call Lucas of all people, when they had barely spoken in a year, had such an awkward and abrupt encounter last time she was in town, when she couldn't bring herself to even say goodbye as she left town, all in fear of looking into hauntingly tender blue eyes and have her heart break?

She remembered coming home that night, after having put all her determination and iron will in the sole purpose of keeping herself together throughout the day of attending classes, the strain becoming so bad her hands had visibly shaken as she tried to fit her key into the front door of her apartment. Once inside, she had fallen apart, finding herself in hysterical sobs for the first time in a long time. The one, clear recollection evident in her mind had been the memory of hands, strong but gentle as they pulled her close, and stroked her hair, silently reassuring that someone was there for her as she grieved.

At the almost tangible memory of his touch, her fingers had fumbled for her phone and absently dialed a familiar cell number, without her being fully conscious of whom she had called until she heard the beloved sound of his voice.

How was it, that even after all this time, he was still her strongest reassurance in the torrential storm of grief associated with her past?

She buried her face in her pillow, feeling very much like screaming out her confusion and frustration, but she settled for a muffed groan. Her fingers curled possessively around the phone still in her hand and a half-formed thought began to emerge in her mind. Before she knew it, she was absently dialing a number familiar for entirely different reasons. Her eyes closed as she raised the electronic to her ear, heard the reverberating rings.

The accompanying click to the call being answered. "Hello. Sawyer residence."

She swallowed, sighing softly as she answered, "Dad? It's me. I think I've changed my mind about coming home for break."


	3. Chapter 3: Like We Were Never Apart

**Sound of Her Voice**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Three: Like We Were Never Apart**

The sight of Larry Sawyer coming through the doors of the café that morning was a rare but welcome sight as Karen greeted him from behind the counter, Keith Michael on her hip as she reviewed an order with a young part-time waitress.

A few years before, when their kids were still in high school, there had been something between them, an attraction and a hint of possibility, but compared to the intensity of the love she and Keith had shared, whatever connection had been between them faded to a platonic, easy friendship.

But still, even with that comradery, they were not particularly close, and given Larry's usual extended leaves of absence, for him to make an appearance at the café was a rare one. Still, there was a certain light-hearted air to the man that drew a smile from her, an extra spring in his step, and a light to his greeting grin she could not remember seeing for a long time.

She sent the young employee on her way, shifting the napping Scott boy on one arm as Larry approached the counter and swung his long legs around to straddle a stool at the counter. "Afternoon, Karen."

"Hi, Larry. I thought you were still out to sea for a few months?"

"Yeah," He scratched at his chin, flashed a sheepish smile, "I was somewhere off the coast of Indonesia couple of weeks ago when I took a look at the calendar and realized something."

"Summer break?"

"Bingo." He sighed, combing his fingers through graying curls of dark hair, "First off, Peyton tells me she has too much work to visit. But I came home anyway, just in case, and an hour after I set my bags on the floor, guess what daughter of mine was ringing me on the phone."

Karen smiled. She could see where this was going. She'd been hoping that the young curly-haired artist would come home for a time. She had not been back in Tree Hill since the beginning of the year, and even then, there had only been one short, awkward visit to see the newborn Michael.

Inwardly, Karen sighed to herself. The source of that awkwardness and Peyton's skittishness had made itself glaringly obvious the moment Lucas came home and the two teenagers stared at each other in stunned silence before sharing awkward pleasantries. Peyton had nearly darted out the door within the next five minutes. Luke had been surly and brooding for the next week.

Ah, children made life so complicated.

Though, speaking of complications, the very fruit of her and Keith's long, entangled relationship was restlessly stirring against her shoulder, blinking up at her with soft brown eyes. Within a moment, those eyes were so familiar, and her heart melted as she smoothed a hand through his baby-fine hair and he favored her with a sleepy, toothless smile.

"Welcome back, sleepyhead," she cooed, turning around to set him down into the playpen left over from years before, when Jake Jageleski and his little girl Jenny frequented her café, where the little boy turned his attention to the toys scattered around the small space. She shook her head and turned back to Larry with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. Anyway, does that mean Peyton's coming home?"

Larry nodded. "Yep. Picked her up this morning. Actually, that's why I'm here. The house's been deserted for a while, so she kicked me out to get some food while she made the place hospitable." He smiled. "Do you think you can provide a starving old sailor with some real food?"

"I'll see what I can do," Karen replied, turning around to make her way toward the kitchen and consequently nearly colliding with her eldest son, who stood at the door. He caught her easily, setting her straight on her feet, and she looked up the extra few inches he towered over her, puzzled over the strange mixture of bafflement, excitement, and wariness that blanketed his expression.

"Luke? Are you alright?"

The nineteen-year-old stared ahead, not really seeming to see her, and she snapped her fingers before his face, blue eyes blinking at her as if coming out of a daze, Lucas finally looking down at her. "Er…Mom?"

She eyed him strangely. "Are you okay? You seemed pretty out of it."

He nodded numbly, glancing over her at the man sitting at the counter. "Mr. Sawyer, did I hear you right? Peyton's back in town?"

Larry blinked, then nodded. "Yeah. You didn't know?" As Lucas shook his head, Peyton's father looked confused, but shrugged it off. "You going to go see her, Rakeboy? She's at the house."

Even the familiar nickname did not seem to register with the young man as he looked away. She smiled softly, placing a hand on his arm. "Lucas, why don't you go see her?"

His eyes snapped to her, and as Karen saw the look in his eyes, the longing and the fear pulled at her maternal instincts. "Luke, go." She squeezed his shoulder, giving him a light push toward the door.

He hesitated for a moment, and then nodded, disappearing out the door. Karen smiled and turned back to Larry, who was watching the door with an expression of fond exasperation. "That boy's gone."

"Aren't they both?"

------------------

The smooth, melodious chords of familiar vintage rock met his ears the moment he walked in through the door, closing the door soundlessly behind him. An almost involuntary smile tugged as his lips as he followed a familiar path, ascending the stairs and walking down the hallway toward her bedroom. Standing still in the entrance, leaning against the doorframe as he watched her, the small smile blossomed to a full-fledged grin.

Lucas had to admit she looked amazing. Hair grown back to thick, golden curls tumbling around her shoulders, gorgeously slender and fit with curves in all the right places to catch his eye. And catch his eye she did, as she bent over a case of vinyl albums, quietly singing to herself.

Blue jeans rode her hips, showing off the length and shape of her legs, teasing his senses with the strip of creamy skin shown by the white blouse riding up her back, and clinging just right, as he could tell from his angle, to the ample swell of her chest, a few buttons out of place at the top to reveal the definition of her collarbone, the slender column of her neck.

Lucas swallowed hard, closing his eyes briefly as he internally cursed himself for being such a typical…_male_, especially when this particular male was just supposed to be coming to see an old friend- albeit a beautiful young female friend, with whom he had shared lingering feelings of a less than platonic nature for several years, but that was beside the point.

Peyton straightened, her eyes closed, lips forming the lyrics of the song as she raised her arms over her head, body moving sensuously, hips sashaying as she moved slowly to the music.

And he could not help but stare, transfixed, his mouth gone dry and his mind drawing a blank. What was the point he was trying to make to himself? Something about girl…boy…girl and boy in girl's childhood bedroom…

At that moment, of all the luck, Peyton chose to open her eyes, and the first sight she saw was him in the doorway, openly, blatantly, watching her. Lucas flushed, and though abashed as he was, he still could not tear his eyes away as he watched her countenance cloud with a mixture of emotions- bafflement, confusion, hope, joy, relief, fear.

Part of them he could not make sense of, part of them left him wanting to comfort her, part of them left him indecisive, part of them had him ecstatic at the very sight of her. The torn emotions ripped through him like a tidal wave, both elating and destroying him, piecing him back together again as a small, tentative smile formed on her face.

"Luke…" she whispered his name much as she had a week before, soft, tender, the look in hazel eyes openly vulnerable in a strange paradox of fear and longing, and he found himself crossing the room toward her in long, purposeful strides.

She was close, so close as his eyes remained locked on hers, as his hands raised to cup her face, his thumb stroking the silken-soft skin of her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed, leaning into his touch and he drew her into his arms.

They fit so seamlessly together, and his body exploded with some long-denied contentment as he felt her breath, her heartbeat, the warmth of her. Her hair brushing against his face, the softness of her lips as she pressed a kiss to his cheek, twining her arms around his neck to press even closer.

He smiled, lightly brushing his lips against her forehead before suddenly lifting her off her feet, twirling her around as she let out a startled protest, clutching at his neck in an attempt to keep her balance. She ordered him to put her down and he complied, dropping her onto her old bed, following her downward as the mattress loudly protested the sudden addition of their weight.

He propped himself up on one elbow and grinned down at her, looking extremely pleased with herself. She frowned, trying her best to look reprimanding, but laughter sparkled in her eyes. "Lucas…" Her face softened with a smile as she raised a hand to smooth back his hair, trailing her fingers down to stroke his cheek. His eyelids slid partially shut as he leaned into the touch, his heart hammering in his ears, his breath catching as he looked down at her…and he was gone.

The moment his lips met hers, he knew nothing would ever be the same.


	4. Chapter 4: For Now, You Are All I Know

**Sound of Her Voice**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Four: For Now, You Are All I Know**

The kiss was soft, gentle as a whisper, just a light brush of his lips over hers, but still he felt as if his world was coming at a standstill, the very core of his being rocked from the extremity of feeling that overtook him with that one, simple, amazing kiss. His body trembled as she slid her hands to his shoulders, her touch invoking a heat that seems to burn through fabric of his tee-shirt, branding into his skin, searing him through to his very soul.

It was that same enflaming of passion, of excitement and want, that urged him to pull her closer, to deepen the kiss, but it is the same desire that forced him to resist, forced them to part from one another. Peyton's eyes fluttered open, glancing up at him through a hooded gaze, and they shared shy, secretive smiles.

Lucas averted his eyes, awkwardly clearing his throat in a way that gave Peyton an impression of adorable discomfiture, causing her to smile. "Lucas."

He abashedly met her eyes, and she noted with an air of guilty pleasure that despite his awkwardness over the sudden kiss, he made no move to separate from her. "I'm sorry," he murmured, "Guess I got carried away."

She replied with a light air, coyly teasing. "It's alright. You always were a good kisser."

Lucas colored and Peyton laughed, tilting up her head to peck his cheek. He smiled in response, drawing her closer to him in a tight embrace. She wrapped her arms around him in turn, resting her head against his chest. He absently nuzzled against her neck, releasing a sigh of contentment, a feeling of utter satisfaction washing over him at the reality of having her so close. "I've missed you," he admitted softly."

"I've missed you too, Luke," placing her hand over his heart, she focused on the strong, steady rhythm beneath her fingertips, "More than you could ever imagine."

"I think I can imagine," he whispered, his tone underlain with a solemn longing, the inexplicable pull of his own heart quickly overcoming any rationale or logical warning in his mind as he gave into the impulse, daring to lean in and kiss her again.

Like its earlier counterpart, this kiss was simple and chaste, just a soft brush of his lips to hers, but still he knew it was a culmination of everything befuddling and disconcerting his mind in the year since she had left him and Tree Hill. It was more than a kiss…a longing, a wish, an urge, a plea, a promise…of something inexplicable, something that became everything.

Lucas broke the kiss once more, more than reluctant to see it come to an end, closing his eyes as his forehead met with hers, exhaling softly, his body strangely tense and relaxed at the same time. He wondered at the strange paradox.

"Peyton?"

Her expression was not angry or even confused, only some kind of blank comprehension. The look of bleak acceptance in her eyes made him ache to reach out and comfort her, but it was that same look that caused him to hesitate.

"We shouldn't be doing this, Luke," she said softly, "What about Brooke?"

He smiled quietly, the relief and confusion overtaking him an oddly bittersweet feeling. "We're over, Peyton. Brooke and I…she met someone else."

A look of utter bewilderment stared back at him. "What? But…just last week, when I called you…you said…"

"Yeah, I know, and I wasn't lying," he rubbed his knuckles against the side of her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb, "I wouldn't lie to you, Peyt. Never again."

"I know, Luke." She copied his motions, laying a hand against his face. "But you were saying, you and Brooke…" she gently prompted him to continue.

"Ah," he blinked, nodding before he spoke once more, "She dumped my butt the next morning. I wasn't the guy I should have been for her, Peyton…and I guess, somewhere along the line, she stopped missing the guy I never was. And me…well, I've been pretending long enough."

"Hmm," and she drew out the noncommittal syllable, scooting closer to him until they were completely side by side, no space between the light press of her body to his. He struggled to ignore the rampart wash of heat filling him at the contact as she subconsciously traced her fingers along his chest, looking him straight in the eye with a shy, small smile.

"You're a good guy, Lucas. Don't be so hard on yourself."

And with that little reassurance, his heart soared, and he found himself taking her hand, cradling it delicately against his chest, just above his racing heart. And she did not question the contact, did not move her hand back, secretly savoring the touch as they fell into comfortable, familiar conversation of anything and everything…the hours dragging by without the two of them paying the slightest mind.

---------------------

_Watching her desperately rustle through the sheets on the motel bed painfully pulled at Lucas's heart from where he stood in the doorway. He softly shut the door, glancing around in case the bracelet had fallen somewhere she had glanced over by accident. He saw her push back the bedclothes to reveal the silver glint of the beloved jewelry piece and he breathed a silent sigh of relief as he walked more fully into the room. _

"_Got it?" he asked softly, and she numbly nodded, tears glinting in hazel-green eyes as she looked up at him, sniffling in a cute way that drew a smile from him as she laughed over the irony of her always trying to be so strong…and here she was crying from sheer relief. Her father was alright…she had found the bracelet he had given her…and as she looked up into the eyes of her best friend's boyfriend, she saw the same reassurance she still waited to fully sink in. _

"_Hey, its okay," he told her, "Everything's okay now, okay?" She nodded, unable to form a coherent response to him and a moment later he lightly rubbed her arms as if to warm them, drawing her to him. His embrace was strong and warm, and Peyton buried her head in his shoulder, letting the tears freely fall as she desperately clutched at her bracelet. He tightened his arms around her and lightly kissed her forehead, unable to help himself as he breathed in the sweet, subtle scent of her hair. _

_They slowly pulled away from one another, and he looked down at her with the same soft expression in his eyes, some unreadable emotion beginning to cloud their rich blue…and she recognized the feelings as she stared up at him with a wide, vulnerable, tear-streaked gaze…want, longing, desire to comfort and desire to love. _

_The same feeling pushed at her and she leaned forward, their lips colliding in gentle, passionate kiss. His hand rose to cup her face, his thumb stroking her cheek as they parted and their eyes met, an unspoken agreement passing between them as their lips met again…and again, desperate to maintain the contact throwing them further and further into a forbidden, heady ecstasy._

_He momentarily leaned his forehead against hers, his breath heavy and his heart thundering as he kept his eyes locked on hers, searching for signs of hesitation, discomfort or protest as he slipped off her jacket. He kissed her once more, her hands linking around his neck, brushing over the fine hair at his nape as his tongue lightly skimmed over the seam of her lips, begging for entrance she gladly granted him. _

_He kissed her with a passionate, vehement hunger, eagerly freeing himself of the binds of his own coat, burying his hands in the silky curls of her hair to tilt her head back, deepening the contact even more. As they parted for breath and he slowly backed her toward the bed, the look in his eyes lusting, loving, and unmistakable in their intentions, he wondered at their sudden role reversal._

_The first and last time he had the same, heart-stopping, soul-soaring ecstasy of being with her like this had been the night of the infamous basketball dinner, and she had been the aggressor, demanding and overwhelming in what she wanted to his then virgin self. He blinked and pushed the thought away of who it was responsible for the loss of his virginity, and he ignored the reminder of the token around his neck._

_Their role reversal…Now, he had the control, demanding but gentle in what he wanted from her…what he wanted to give her…what they both so desperately needed. _

_He sat her down at the edge of the bed, kissing her with soft reassurance as he pulled her shirt over her head, revealing the spaghetti strap top underneath. Lucas cupped her face in his hands, reading the expression of befuddled wonder mixed with desire and longing crossing over her beautiful face and he did not dare give her time to hesitate as he brought his mouth back to hers, the weight of his body pressing her back against the bed. _

_Her hands glided down his back to feel the ripple of her hard muscles beneath his shirt, delighting in the delicious warmth pooling through the thin fabric, and his hands traced the curves of her body, fingers lightly brushing over hips and thighs as he took in the feel of her. _

_He took his explorations downward, his eyes drinking in the sight of her, nose brushing against the swell of her breasts as he lowered his head, lifting her tank top to reveal the smooth, creamy skin of her abdomen, feathering kisses along her navel._

_He reared upward, shedding his shirt and he felt a flash of masculine pride as her eyes danced over him with quiet appreciation and he lowered himself to her again. They shared secret smiles as her arms slipped around his neck to draw his mouth back to hers._

_As they parted once more, wonderfully breathless, they could not help the shy, delighted smiles that broke out over their faces, and they shared again and again the same quick, light kisses before he trailed his lips to her neck. Her eyes fluttered close, lips parting in breathless pleasure and he smiled against her skin, angling his head around so not to let the necklace around his neck catch in her long hair. _

_An inexplicable feeling filled him, a mixture of wistfulness and anxiety, an indefinable feeling of something not being right, but he pushed aside with the feeling of sheer thrill that rang through him at the aspect of being with her. He brought his head down to kiss her once more but she turned her face away, his lips colliding with her cheek. He pulled back, an expression of hurt confusion blanketing his features. _

"_Peyton?"_

_Her eyes were beautiful as ever…but sad, oh so sad…and he ached to do something to reassure her, let her know she wasn't alone, that she was loved and cherished and treasured. "Peyt? What's wrong?"_

"_We can't do this, Luke, you know we can't."_

"_Wha…why…I love you, Peyton…please…" he found himself nearly begging, tears blurring his vision._

_She rolled out from underneath him, searching the floor for her clothes. She refused to meet his eyes. "It's getting late, Luke. We should get going, don't you think?"_

"_Peyton." He jumped to his feet, still shirtless and grabbed her arm, whirling her around to face him. She finally met his gaze and she reached up to gently brush her fingers against his cheek and he leaned into the touch, savoring the feel of her. He smiled sadly, whispering to her, "I love you, Peyton."_

_She leaned up and brushed her lips against his temple, speaking softly into his ear. "Then don't be afraid of it, Lucas. I'm right here beside you. I'm here."_

_-------------_

Lucas shot up in bed, momentary panic setting in as he realized he did not recognize his surroundings, his heart thundering in his ears and drowning out any other sound around him. A warm hand on his arm startled him thrice over and he jumped, turning a wide, startled gaze to take in the sight of the woman beside him, curly blonde hair adorably disarrayed from their brief trip to the dreamscape, her pretty eyes filled with concern for him. "Luke? Are you alright?"

Something about that dream…a longing, a memory, a flashback, had seemed so surreally tangible…different from his actual remembrance where he could not bring himself to stop, never wanting to stop touching her, feeling her, just to never put a stop to the feeling of sheer rightness that came with being with her.

But somehow, the words seemed to catch in his throat and he could not give voice to them, and as she gently squeezed his hand, rubbed his back while whispering reassuringly to him, he knew one single, solitary truth.

No matter what happened, no matter what he went through, it always seemed to come back to Peyton Sawyer.


	5. Chapter 5: Even When I Dream of You

**Sound of Her Voice**

By Alaricnomad

A/N: Does anyone else miss S1 Lucas? Cause that's who I write. Not that dumbass (pardon my language) on screen this season. Just had to get that out.

**Chapter Five: Even When I Dream of You**

"You okay now?"

The owner of the voice questioning him was nothing more than concerned, but still Lucas felt distinctly embarrassed as he came back to reality to find himself firmly enwrapped in Peyton's arms. It wasn't that he minded the embrace- not in the least- it was more the fact he realized he was trembling, and he could feel the remnants of a cold sweat beading now his neck. Mortified, he buried his face in his neck to avoid having to look up at her. "Yeah," he replied, his voice muffled against her skin, "M'okay."

She sweetly kissed his temple. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about, Luke. It was just a bad dream. I used to get them all the time after my mom died."

He sighed and shifted himself as to hug her in return, slipping one arm around her shoulders, the other draping across her stomach. "It wasn't even a bad dream. It was just…weird."

"How so?"

He frowned slightly with thought. "I dunno. I don't really remember it."

"Hmm…it's probably not worth worrying yourself over then."

"You're probably right."

She kissed his cheek and teased, "I'm always right."

He grinned. "Yes, dear. You're always right."

"Don't you forget it." With a sigh of content, she rested her head against his chest and they lay there, just listening to the sound of the other breathing. She nuzzled against him. "Mmm, can you believe we fell asleep? It's nearly six."

Lucas softly stroked her hair, resting his head against hers when a sudden thought suddenly popped into his mind, causing him to bolt up. Startled as she was thrown off him, she stared at him, bewildered. "Luke?"

"Shit," he cursed, slapping a hand against his forehead. She gave him a look, knowing as well as he did it was rare for him to curse. He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Er…I kinda forgot why I came in the first place."

"It wasn't to see little old me?"

He smiled. "Of course it was. But it was your dad I saw first. Because _someone_ didn't bother to tell me herself she was in town."

"That old man is always causing trouble," she grumbled with mock exasperation, giving him an apologetic look. "Sorry for not telling you. I was going to call you…"

"S'alright. Anyway, he sent me to get you. He wanted you to come back to the café for lunch like," he glanced at the clock, "Four hours ago."

She shook her head amusedly. "It's not like you to be so forgetful."

He smiled, resting his forehead against hers. "You always had a way of distracting me, Peyt."

"I'll give him a call."

He pouted with disappointment when she pecked his lips and rolled away from him, searching the bedside table for her cell phone. She gave him a smile, smacking the hand that came to rest at her hip, attempting to pull her back to him. Putting the phone to her ear, listening to the dial tone, she smiled as she heard her father's voice. "Daddy?"

/Peyton! Honey, where've you been?/

"Sorry, Daddy. We got a little caught up."

/I can imagine. I already had lunch with Karen this afternoon, but I'm guessing you two are starving. I'll pick up a pizza on my way home. Lucas going to stay?/

"Dunno. Let me ask him," turning to the man beside her, she relayed her father's invitation.

He shrugged. "Sure. Just let me call my mom…"

Peyton gave her father Lucas's reply and she could hear Larry chuckle on the other line. "Tell him not to worry about it. I'm sitting across from Karen as we speak."

The plans were made and after she had hung up the phone, Lucas was happy to have back her attention as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, brushing his lips against the nape of her neck. She made a soft, pleased sound in the back of her throat, nestling against him. "You know," she mumbled lazily, "We should probably go downstairs. If we stay up here much longer, we'll just fall asleep again."

He groaned. "Do we have to?"

"Have to? No. Probably should? Yeah."

"Alright, alright." He pressed one last kiss to her neck before he pulled away, reluctantly standing up. He held out a hand to her and she placed hers in his, letting him help her to her feet. He gave her a boyish grin and she smirked in return, reaching up a hand to run it through his cutely disheveled bed-head. He gave her a playful glare but gave her hand a tug, pulling her toward the door.

She watched him. She couldn't help herself. She ran a finger over her lips, still burning from his kiss. They'd kissed before, several times, over the summer they had spent together between junior and senior year, softly and chastely, just like his earlier kisses. Gratitude, comfort, happiness, or affection- whatever reason came up, it just was. They had never questioned it, chalking it up to the closeness that built up between them that summer, and the need to fully express that affection without fully crossing that delicate line.

Those kisses stopped when Brooke came home and she and Lucas began dating, so not to risk the fragile bonds both blondes had with the temperamental brunette. And after the two best friends had their falling-out, all other shows of his affection he once used so frequently stopped along with it- his hugs, his fingers entwining with hers, letting her lean her head against his shoulder, kisses to her forehead, her cheek, or her hand- with the distance forced between them. She never realized before just how much she had missed his touch until now, when she was being given it as freely as if they were seventeen again.

She felt him gently squeeze her hand and as he looked back to give her a smile, she couldn't help but return it. Yes…it always came back to Lucas Scott.

--

A half hour later, Larry found them sprawled out together on the living room couch, Peyton lying across her "friend" with her head against his chest, Lucas with his arm around her, absently stroking her hair. They were sharing between them Peyton's iPod, each with one earbud, and he could hear the sound of them both softly singing/humming along to the song. He didn't recognize the lyrics, but then again, when did he ever when it came to Peyton's music?

He smiled at the sight before him and discreetly cleared his throat. Two pairs of eyes opened to regard him, one blue, one green, both gazes more peaceful then he had ever really seen them. They didn't bother to separate; Peyton raised her head in order to see over Lucas and gave him a smile before nestling back against the boy beneath her. Lucas gave him a wave in greeting before his attention was quickly diverted as he dropped a kiss to Peyton's hair.

Larry arched an eyebrow. "I see you two are getting reacquainted." It was not a complete surprise to come across his daughter and the elder Scott boy in a position similar to this. Though he may not have been home all that often during their high school years, upon occasion when he did come home, he would find Peyton with company of the blonde-haired, basketball-playing, teenage boy variety- most especially that summer he and Peyton had been so estranged over Ellie's sudden appearance.

He would come across them sitting hip-to-hip, heads bent together over a book as they talked quietly among themselves; they would be on the couch, Peyton reclined back against Lucas, as they watched movies. Once they had been in her bedroom when he came in just as Peyton's music was changing from something loud and face-paced to something more low and melodious. The pair calmed from their wild, spontaneous dancing and Lucas pulled his daughter into a slow dance, fitting together seamlessly with a steady, intimate sway.

Peyton gave him a playful glare in response to his dry tone. "Better to keep your sarcasm to yourself, old man. What'd you bring us?"

"A large cheese. Y'know, I wasn't sure what everyone would want. If nothing else, I bet we have bologna and MM's."

Peyton stuck her tongue out at him, chucking a coaster from the nearby end table in his direction. Larry laughed, ducking out of her way and holding his hands up in surrender. He disappeared into the next room and she shared a look with Lucas, who smiled at her softly. "I guess we have to get up again?" he mumbled.

"If you want to eat anytime soon."

He buried his face in her neck and she could feel him smile against her skin. "I think my stomach can wait a bit."

She rested her arms over the ones wrapped around her, leaning back once more against his chest. "Yeah. Mine too."

--

He heard her crying that night.

He wasn't able to sleep soundly that night. Larry had invited him to crash on the couch, and though he tried, the knowledge that Peyton was just above him, alive and solid, made it hard to sleep. With as much stealth as he could muster as he went seeking the bathroom, he was able to stalk through the house without the slightest of sounds, the fall of his feet producing no clamor as he crept up the stairs and down the corridor, dark and still as the night around him. Around two in the morning, in the twilight hours, was the first time he heard the muffled crying coming from her bedroom.

He hesitated outside her door, struck frozen by indecision as he found himself torn between his desire to comfort her and his nagging sense of propriety. In that ridiculous battle between his sense of respectability and his love-prompted worry, it was his concern that won out in the end. His muted knock to the door was a sudden and startling sound in the otherwise serene silence, bringing an abrupt pause to any noise beyond the barrier made by her door.

"Yes?" Her voice sounded weak and muffled, oddly strangled as if she forced a lighter tone to her words.

He hesitated for only a moment. "Peyt? May I come in?"

Her soft voice granted him permission to enter, and he did as she bid, pushing the door open to step inside, then closing it behind him as soundlessly as he had entered.

He raised his eyes to focus on her, and he felt the familiar flutter in his stomach, the tightening of the muscles in his throat that he had come to associate with his first sight of her. She was half buried in a cocoon of blankets and sheets, her hair loose and let down as the long tresses draped around her shoulders, seeming vibrantly gold against the pale shade of the bedclothes.

She had obviously attempted to wipe away the signs of tears upon her face, for her cheeks were dry, but her eyes and face were red and blotched, the bruised flesh beneath her eyes more shadowed than ever in suppressed pain. He looked beyond the forced smile she graced him with, the strain all too evident to one attune to her shifts in mood and temperament. It was a skill he had acquired over the years, one that came in handy during times where she refused to allow anyone to help alleviate her burden.

His heart ached for her. She stared up at him in bewilderment and incomprehension.

"Luke? Something wrong?"

"I…I heard you crying, Peyt. I came to see if you were alright."

Her smile faltered for just a moment, but it was enough to prove to him it was all a false mask. "Sorry. You don't have to worry about me."

With a quiet sigh, he crossed the room, kneeling before her beside the bed. He reached for the hands folded in her lap, enveloping them in his own. His touch was light and cautious, and he was ecstatic when she returned the gesture with a gentle squeeze.

"Never say sorry. Wanna talk about it?"

"You don't have to worry about my problems, Luke."

An undecipherable expression flickered over his face, and then a warm smile spread over his gentle features. "Peyton…"

Trailing off, he leaned closer, lifting a hand to touch her cheek, his eyes softening with affection and concern as he studied the unhealthy pallor to her skin, the shadows forming from lack of sleep. "You haven't been sleeping well lately, have you?" At her reluctant nod, he brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheek to wipe away a stray tear. "Peyton, baby, don't cry."

Her eyes widened slightly, at his unconscious use of the endearment. She turned away from his gaze, the shadows cast by the darkness effectively hiding the expression in her eyes. Slender fingers curled around her chin, gently but insistently turned her back to face him. "Talk to me." He took her hands again, "Will you talk to me?" he gently repeated.

The pregnant silence that followed seemed to last for an eternity, filled with tension and pain and thoughts they had never before dared to speak out loud. Just when he was certain she would refuse his confidence, she began to speak, her words almost inaudible to his ears if not for their proximity.

"You know how I told you I've been having dreams lately? I thought maybe coming home would help, but they haven't stopped. It's always changing…sometimes it's about my mom, or Ellie, or you, or Brooke, or anyone else. I wake up every night, crying, begging whoever it is to come back." Tears pooled in her eyes, causing her eyes to shine to the moonlight illuminating the room. She irritably brushed them away, refusing to cry in his presence. "I just can't shake this, Luke."

He wrapped an arm around her and she leaned into the comfort of his touch, sighing softly as he pressed a kiss to her temple. "I'm here, Peyton. I'm not going anywhere," he pressed another kiss to her head, "I'm still here."

She gazed up at him, perched at the side of her bed with perfect balance, his blue eyes loving and focused solely on her. In the summer heat, he wore nothing more than a pair of boxers, bare-chested and barefoot. His body was finely muscled but still lean, but she was fully aware of the incredible strength lying dormant in the powerful muscles beneath his deceptive frame. She studied him, letting her eyes linger over each feature and perfection of him, committing to memory this new side of the man she had come to care so much about.

Her face stained with color as she realized she had been staring, and the sudden acknowledgement of what she had said finally came to her. "Uh…"

He laughed, a low, rich sound of mirth that she was delighted to hear- she had always loved his laugh. He dipped his head to be level with hers, brushed away the hair falling in her eyes and tenderly kissed her forehead. "You're blushing," he whispered, his tone underlined with amusement. If anything, her blush only deepened.

"Thanks, Luke."

He smiled. "You're exhausted. I'll let you sleep. Unless…" He averted his eyes, visibly swallowing with nervousness. "Do-do you need me to stay with you?"

Her eyes widened in surprise, and he was quick with an explanation and leeway. "That is…well, if you want, I can just go. That is…I just wanted to make sure you would be alright…"

She placed a finger against his lips, effectively stopping his words. "Stay, Luke."

The self-conscious minority of his nature reared its ugly head as he was sliding into the bed beside her, pulling the comforter up despite the warmth of the season and he watched her cautiously. She lay with her back to him, curled into a ball, seeming smaller and more vulnerable than he had ever seen her. He wrapped his arms around her, kissed her forehead and Peyton relaxed against him, leaning back so they spooned together. Their fingers entwined and he settled his head atop of hers, letting out a breath.

Peyton smiled as she nestled into the embrace of one who loved her so deeply. There were no nightmares that night.


	6. Chapter 6: It's Been So Long, So Long

**Sound of Her Voice**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Six: It's Been So Long, So Long**

"Get over here, Sawyer!"

Peyton laughed joyously as she was enveloped in a bear hug, lifted off her feet to be twirled around. "Nathan," she squealed with protest, overwhelmed by his enthusiasm as she quickly grew dizzy, "Put me down, you big oaf!"

Nathan chuckled as he set her down, putting his hands on her shoulders and stepping back to take a good look at her. "Well…you're walking, talking and breathing, so what the hell, Sawyer? You don't call, you don't write, you skip out on us for Spring Break, you only stay a week for winter vacation. What's up?"

Peyton gave him a weak smile. "I've sorry, Nate. I've been-"

"Busy, I know. Uh-huh, if that's your story."

"Nathan, stop badgering the poor girl," Haley chided, bumping him with her hip to get him out of the way so she could get to the curly-haired woman. Their hug wasn't as dramatic as Nathan's, but it was no less heartfelt. Haley let the embrace linger as she felt the trusting way the blonde leaned into her. That motherly aura the musician had always radiated seemed to be infectious. Haley rubbed her back soothingly, whispering, "It's good to have you home, Peyton."

Peyton drew back, giving her a warm smile. "It's good to be home."

"Umm…this is touching and all, but I'm here too. Don't I get a hug?"

Haley rolled her eyes at her best friend's whining but she complied, wrapping her arms around his neck in greeting. Lucas responded by slipping his arms around her waist, accepting her peck to his cheek with a soft look of welcome. "Here, you big baby," Haley told him wryly, "I don't know why you're feeling so neglected. We just saw you in April."

Lucas pouted. "That's still two months."

Watching his wife and her best friend reunite, Nathan took the moment they separated as an opportunity to approach, bumping fists with his brother. "Hey, Luke. Long time, no see."

Lucas nodded. "You too, man," he turned back to his sister-in-law with a grin, "See? He agrees with me."

"Can it, Scott."

Peyton grinned, watching the interactions between her friends with fond remembrance. As much as she had fought coming back, it really was good to be home. It was as if nothing had changed. Any of the awkwardness or tension she had expected to return to seemed nonexistent. "Some things never change."

Nathan smiled at her. "I think you're right. Looking hot as ever, Sawyer."

Peyton rolled her eyes, Haley hit him and Lucas glared. Nathan held up his hands. "What? Haven't you ever heard of an icebreaker?"

"You broke the ice, alright," Lucas commented dryly, "You just about killed it."

"Hah hah."

"As amusing as this is," Peyton interrupted, "I thought we were going to dinner."

"Right," Haley linked arms with her husband, tugging him forward, "Let's get going."

Lucas nodded, wrapping his arm around Peyton's shoulders as they followed. Peyton leaned into his side and he smiled down at her, kissing the top of her head. Haley glanced over her shoulder at them and winked at her husband, the two of them sharing a knowing smile.

--

They stopped first by Peyton's house, as Nathan and Haley still had their luggage in the back of their rental, to change for dinner. Nathan and Lucas were finished rather quickly, and they waited patiently down in the foyer for the girls. Lucas fiddled uncomfortably with the sleeve of his dark blue dress shirt, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in his khakis. Nathan amusedly watched his brother fidget, knowing full well the source of his discomfort.

"Boys, we're ready," Haley's singsong voice echoed as both women began their descent down the staircase, catching Lucas's attention as he raised his head to take in the sight of her.

And what a sight it was.

The dress she wore was a slinky little black number with an open back, showing up smooth expanses of sun-kissed skin and the neckline plunging just enough to show a hint of cleavage. The swinging skirt settled on her hips and showed off her legs, complete with thin-strapped heels that accented said legs in a dangerously seductive way.

All blood left Lucas's brain and rushed southward. No way in hell this was he going to survive this dinner. He could see vaguely that Haley was looking particularly pretty in a modest red dress, but all he saw was Peyton. He caught her secretive, amused little smile and he looked away, embarrassed, as he realized he had been practically drooling. She rested a hand against his shoulder, leaned up to kiss his cheek, and whispered. "Don't worry, babe. I'll take it as a compliment."

He looked back at her, still looking shy, but with the warm smile he received, he offered her his arm, and away they went.

The restaurant was one of the classiest Tree Hill had to offer. Dinner was phenomenal, conversation flowed easily, and each and every one of them reveled in their renewed camaraderie. They finished their meal languorously, and as music began to play in the background after the band was set up to perform. Lucas thoughtfully watched as Peyton's gaze caught and stayed on the dancers filling the floor. He smiled softly, rising to his feet to stand before her, "You want to dance? I'm not real good at it, but if you want to…"

"I'd love to."

Shyness had no real place there anymore as she took the hand he extended toward her and allowed herself to be drawn into his arms. It was a feeling like coming home as she came into his embrace, their bodies fitting seamlessly, and together they moved fluidly into the dance.

In his arms, it felt strangely familiar, it felt exhilaratingly new, but most of all…it just felt right.

Lucas leaned his head to hers, and his cheek brushed over hers, the light stubble along his jaw scratching against her skin. Her nose crinkled at the sensation and he smiled, whispering into her ear. "Peyton?"

"Hmm?" Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers idly skimming along his nape, with the fine hair she found there. A pleasurable shiver ran down his spine at her touch.

"You look beautiful," and he was unable to hide the warm sincerity of his words, pressing a kiss just below her ear.

"You're looking quite handsome yourself."

He chuckled. "No, you definitely outclass me."

"Thank you," she replied, shyly biting her lip, averting her eyes from his.

"Hey…look at me, Peyt," his fingers curled around her chin, gently tilting her head back up to look at him. "Are you having a good time?"

"Yeah…it's been pretty unforgettable so far."

"Unforgettable, huh?" he said with a smile, playfully waggling his eyebrows, "Much be my irresistible charm."

She rolled her eyes, swatting him in the arm for the cockiness coloring his tone, though she could not help a smile. "More like irresistible foolishness."

"Whatever makes the ladies happy."

She laughed. "You are so full of yourself." They leaned back into each other once more, their foreheads meeting as their eyes locked, holding each other's gaze.

He smiled again, and he found himself noticing that he seemed to be doing that so much more that night than he had in the past year. If nothing else…if nothing else…Peyton could always draw a smile from him. No one else brought that same feeling of ecstasy, of exhilaration, of sheer giddiness just by being in her very presence.

"Maybe I am," he lightly teased, "But you love me anyway, faults and all."

She grew serious and some inexplicable emotion passed through her eyes, faster than he could decipher or react as she suddenly leaned even closer, grazing her lips over his, a simple, chaste kiss that only lasted a few moments. His eyes fluttered closed, but before he could respond, she pulled away.

She watched him through a hooded gaze and Luke stood frozen, his eyes still closed and a small, hesitant smile playing over his lips. He tentatively opened his eyes to look at her, his face blanketed with confusion and cautious hope. "Peyt?"

She pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth, bumping her nose against his. "Tonight's a special night, yeah?"

"Hmm," he looked thoughtful, a bit mischievous, "Special things that happen on special nights…"

"Are just kept special," she finished for him.

That same boyish grin broke out on his face, holding such warmth and joy she felt her heart soar, laughing delightedly as he lifted her up and twirled her around in his excitement.

She braced her hands against his shoulders for some semblance of balance, and he leaned his head against hers, whispering to her, "That's good, cause I've been wanting something special with you for a long time."

--

She had thought that after their initial reunion, especially being back in their presence of their friends, that the physical they were adding to their affection would have toned down. But that night, it only intensified. Without Brooke, it was like nothing had changed, that the past year didn't matter. She knew they wouldn't talk about it, where they were at in terms of their relationship- it was just unspoken, the two of them summing it up to being close friends. Eventually, they would ease off, but the intensity of being together again after so long, so long apart from one another, that craving to be close was almost electric, almost addicting.

She remembered well when it had started, over that summer where they grew so close. They had needed each other like they had never needed any other person. And that old connection had flared back up, soul reconnecting with soul, and that those few months of just having each other; they didn't bother to fight it.

_She was scared. She knew she was being a bit irrational, a bit oversensitive, but even with Lucas's comforting presence nearby, she couldn't help but feel uneasy. Her wide eyes darted around the room and she asked softly. "Did you hear something?"_

_Sitting in the chair across the room, Lucas sighed; ready as always to reassure her. "Look, Peyton. I locked all the doors. I didn't hear anything. You're fine, okay?" He gave her that soft smile that never failed to affect her and she took in a deep breath, relaxing back against the bed. _

_She looked around; avoiding looking at him directly, tentatively broaching a topic she knew they had to talk about at some point. A topic full of things she couldn't help but need to know. "So, Brooke said you kept some of the stuff from when we were…" she trailed off, unable to quite put a label on their past. A fling, an affair, in love? She rolled her eyes, settling on, "Whatever we were. She thinks you're still into me."_

_Lucas's mind went into a strange overdrive, so many words on the tip of his tongue he knew he shouldn't stay. Dozens upon dozens of possible responses he could make to that, all of which he knew were dangerous territory. He settled for avoiding it all together. "I told Brooke I wanted to be with her today. Right before she left."_

_Peyton stared at him for a moment, letting what he said sink in. She laughed, sitting him to give a wry look. "Nice timing," she said dryly. _

_Even if it was at his expense, Lucas found himself oddly glad to see that smile on her face. He shook his head to dispel those thoughts, chuckling in self-deprecation. "I'm a real piece of work, huh? I mean every time I play it over in my head, this idiot light just keeps flashing over me."_

_She gazed at him sympathetically, giving an agreeing nod. "Yeah. Either you say too much, or like me with Jake, you don't say enough. And then they're gone."_

"_Yeah. I'm sorry about Jake." Though he was genuinely feeling for her pain- when she hurt, he hurt for her- he couldn't help the spike of jealousy that crept up his throat at the mention of the other man. He immediately squashed those thoughts, feeling ashamed of himself for feeling so petty over her loss. _

"_Yeah, me too." She looked down, her eyes clouding over, "It broke my heart. _

_What it wouldn't give to be capable of repairing it for her. He heaved out a heavy sigh, frustrated by the fact he knew it wasn't his place to do so. "It's been a tough year on hearts." He furrowed his brow, lost in thought. _

_Flooded with thoughts of the past year, just what damage was done to her heart before Jake, before Lucas's sudden reawakened feelings for Brooke; there was the two of them. Lust, secrets, passion, but most of all, that surreal, overwhelming love that had never quite disappeared. She settled for a nod, unable to come up with the right words. _

"_So, it's too bad we had to be this desperate to hang out again, huh?"_

_She breathed out a laugh, "We didn't have to, we just are." She didn't like to think about their estrangement over the past few months any more than he did. "But I'm glad you're here. I know we kinda lost each other for a while, but hopefully that's over right." She gave him a heavy look, full of things he could read too well, but didn't like to admit to himself. "Especially considering our history."_

_He knew exactly why they had lost each other. "It's always going to be there, isn't it? You and me."_

_Peyton opened her mouth to reply, to refute him, but she knew she couldn't. Instead she nodded, her lips curling into a slight smile almost of their own accord, as she looked up at him shyly. _

_A silence fell between them and strangely enough, it wasn't discomforting in anyway. Instead, it was more the comfortable, companionable sort of quiet they often felt when together, most often when they sat reading or drawing together. He watched her as she laid her head back against her pillow, tilting her face up toward the window. She stared out into the night, lost in thought and his heart skipped a beat as he realized much of the earlier tension in her expression had relaxed. She sighed softly and turned her face toward him. Their eyes met and she gave him a small smile. "Hey," she said softly. _

"_Hey," he responded, his gaze gentle in a way that soothed her as his eyes traced over her face, "Been a long day, huh?"_

_She laughed. "More like a long year."_

"_Yeah, I know what you mean." She studied him for a moment, cocking her head in contemplation. She shifted to her side, tentatively biting her lip as she patted the mattress beside her. "Stay with me?" she questioned him shyly. _

_He nodded, moving to join her in the bed. He wrapped his arms around her and Peyton nestled against him. Lucas nuzzled her neck, pressing a kiss to her nape and she sighed, turning her head to kiss his cheek. He cupped the side of her face, his thumb stroking her cheek, smiling down at her with soft affection. "Always," he whispered gently, "Always."_

"Peyt?"

Peyton snapped out of her reflections, her head tilting up to take in the sight of the subject of her thoughts standing in the doorway of his bedroom. He was leaning against the frame, just returned from the bathroom, only wearing a pair of boxers as he tilted his head curiously. "Ready for bed?"

She glanced up at him from where she sat at the edge of his bed, feeling suddenly self-conscious in the oversize t-shirt she wore, borrowed from him, hyper-aware she wore nothing but panties underneath. She hesitated for a moment but reassured herself, letting her mind linger on her previous memories. It was Lucas, just Lucas. Finally, she nodded with affirmation, holding out a hand to him. He crossed the room to accept it and she leaned back against the bed, Lucas following after.


	7. Chapter 7: In a Child's Eyes

**Sound of Her Voice**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Seven: In a Child's Eyes**

He watched her. He couldn't help himself.

He was hesitating in the doorway leading into the living room, suddenly dumbstruck by the sight presented to him as he sought to make his way into the room. Peyton Sawyer had an armful of baby, Keith Michael squealing with pleasure as she tickled him. Peyton herself was grinning, her fingers gently but mercilessly playing over the little boy's sides. Eventually, he made a discontented whimper indicating he had had enough and she eased off, combing auburn hair away from the child's flushed face, smiling down at him tenderly. Keith Michael returned the gesture with a toothless grin, holding up his arms, "Hug."

Lucas couldn't have taken his eyes off of her even if he wanted to. A guilty admission of his, throughout most of his adolescence, when he pictured his future- kids, white picket fence- it was Peyton Sawyer he imagined at his side. He could see her walking down the aisle toward him gowned in white; he could see pretty little girls with her curls and her smile, playful little boys with her green eyes and her dimples. He watched as Peyton gently lifted a sleepy Keith Michael into her arms, cradling him against her as she stood and made her way to the nearest chair.

The strange sensation of the contact spread through her like wildfire, the small bundle of warmth instinctually nestling closer to her. Inwardly, she was both bemused and delighted at the odd feeling that filled her as the little male body pressed into her. The warmth washed over her in a gentle tide, and Peyton's mouth curved into a small smile as she cradled the baby close, closing her eyes as he murmured against her shoulder, nuzzling against her.

What on earth was this feeling? This protectiveness, the sudden want to hold and comfort and treasure? If she took a moment to admit it to herself, she would find it would feel almost…maternal…

"What is it about you?" she said softly, hating the shaky quality to her own voice as she stared down at the child in her arms, still peacefully drowsy and oblivious to the distress he was causing to her. She suddenly felt the pressure of two large hands on her shoulder, angling back her head to see Lucas's serene gray eyes staring back at her. She had not realized she had been trembling until he moved to steady her. She placed a hand over one of his, giving it a light squeeze as she quietly thanked him, leaning back against him.

"You okay?"

_It was a near the end of the school year, a time they had stolen to spend together under Brooke's radar. They were both eighteen, and still so shy around one another. It had been a strange phase, caught between knowing and wondering how the other felt, struggling between the trepidation and elation that warred inside._

_They were both laid out at the beach, stretched out on their backs upon the sand, beneath the starry expanses of the sky. She reached over and slipped her hand into his, their hands entwining without preamble, tightly, reassuringly. _

_The air grew cooler, taking on a biting edge she had not prepared for. He had caught notice of her trembling, shaking his head with a light of amusement in his eyes, wrapping his jacket around her slight frame as he gently rubbed his knuckles against her cheek, giving her a smile. He had gazed down at her, his eyes warm but unreadable, his arm around her shoulders, trying to provide what warmth he could. "I'll always be here to take care of you, Peyt, but you gotta remember things from time to time."_

_She felt her face warm with mortification, but she smiled as she moved closer to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. He glanced down at her, momentarily startled before relaxing at her proximity, turning his eyes back to the stars above them. _

"…_Luke…?"_

"_Hmm?"_

"_Have you…have you ever thought about children?"_

"_Children?"_

"_Yes. I don't mean children in general, but children of your own. Have you ever thought about it?"_

"_Yeah, hasn't everybody?"_

"_Hmm."_

_He leaned his head against hers, casting wondering eyes down at her. "Haven't you?"_

"_Hmm-mm."_

_He smiled fondly, tightening his arms around her. "The same to you, Peyt. You'd be a great mother."_ _He watched her blink sleepy eyes, felt her smile as she nestled deeper into his half-embrace. "What brought all this up?" he asked gently. _

_She sighed softly. "I think about my mom, and your mom. So…I wonder about it, if I would be a good mother."_

_He brushed a light kiss against the crown of her head, grateful for the drowsy state that could banish both their shyness. "What would you rather have? A son or daughter?"_

"_I wouldn't care as long as it was healthy."_

"_Hmm…I think, like you said, that it wouldn't matter as long as he or she was healthy, and I wouldn't mind a son. But…I think…I would really like a daughter."_

_A daughter, Peyton. Just like you. _

She placed her hand over his, tilting her head to smile up at him. "Yeah. I'm perfect."

--

In the field they lay in, the grasses grew tall as an average size man, sweeping upward in long stretches of tawny, golden-brown and emerald green, the sun beaming down in softly amber beams, warming them in the mild spring afternoon, but not making the atmosphere around them unbearable. The grasses obscured them from ordinary vision, hiding them away from the rest of the world as they lay side by side, oblivious to the foliage catching in hair or clothes.

It was springtime, bordering on the onslaught of the summer season, the mild softness of the spring mixing with the spicy heat of summertime. Still, the weather was cool that time of day, with the sun already passed on the horizon, light spilling in lingering pools of molten gold, long, cobalt shadows cast by them providing amble shading from the hovering menace that was the summer sun.

A-buzz with life was the forage around her, the sounds of insects chirping and birds singing, the distant calls of animals yet unknown to her auditory memory. Still, her favorite sound was the low hum resounding from him, a rich, pleasant reverberation whose repeating chorus was an echo of an old childhood song, almost absentminded as he softly sang while his attention was elsewhere, focused on the novel in his hand.

She could not help but laugh delightedly, and though she tried to smother the noise, there was not much that escaped his attention. His eyes were on her within a split second, his gaze sharp and questioning, but still soft with affection she had come to treasure from him.

"What is it?" he did not sound exasperated or annoyed, only curious, and she giggled again, leaning back her head to take in the cool of the blowing breeze.

"Nothing, it's just…the song you were humming, what is it?"

He grimaced, previously unaware he had given voice to the music running through his head, "I dunno really.

"Mmm…maybe you can sing it to Keith Michael. It might put him to sleep."

The low, deep sound of his laughter reached her ears, along with his near-whisper of, "Please. My voice is terrible. I'd scare him more than anything."

The sound of his pages rustling stopped abruptly but she thought nothing of it until she felt the tingle down her spine that spoke of his sudden, close proximity. Her eyes fluttered open, wide and startled, taking in his face twisted into a perplexed, unreadable expression, his brow furrowed with disconcertion.

She touched a hand to his cheek, concerned, and he jumped under her touch, his fingers grasping tightly around her wrist. They stared at each other for a moment, and he leaned close, so close his eyes were a blur of vivid, ocean-blue and his breath was hot against her skin, and he spoke, his voice soft as a ghostly touch.

"Peyton…if I kiss you right now…would you hate me?"

She smiled softly, tracing a finger down his cheek. "How could I hate you for it, when I want you to do it so badly?"

His lips were on hers, and the kiss was soft, light, fragile, and delicate as if something that could be broken. And then her arms slipped around his neck, pulling him closer, and he was suddenly kissing her in earnest, a slow stirring of a heat, a passion, that changed the world forever. He kissed until the world changed, and them along with it, and even that was not enough.

They pulled back, sharing no more acknowledgment to the intimacy than shy, secretive smiles. Peyton nestled against him, her body fitting quite nicely to the contours of his own, his arm loosely around her waist, and her head against his shoulder. He sighed softly and absently nuzzled her neck, and she smiled indulgently, fiddling with a piece of grass between her fingers.

"How is it?" she asked him suddenly.

"How's what?"

"Being a big brother."

"Mmm," he leaned his forehead against her shoulder, curling his fingers through the stray hairs falling down her back, "I love it. And knowing he's a part of Keith…"

"You miss him."

"Of course. You know, Mom thinks it's a good idea that Keith Michael meets him."

"His grave?" as he nodded, she smiled quietly, "Hmm…it's a sweet idea."

"Yeah…but I have a request to make…"

"What's that?"

"Will you come with me?"

"Of course." She wrapped her hands around his arm, scooting even closer until her back pressed to his chest, her head falling back to rest in the crook of his neck. "Will you be okay taking him?"

His brow furrowed, and he bit his lip as he puzzled out his answer. She laughed softly and smoothed her thumb against his mouth, startling him enough that he stopped. "That's a bad habit you have, worrying your lips like that."

"Sorry."

"Luke…" She turned in his arms, embracing him in return, and he surrendered himself, pressing as close to her as he could manage, burying his face in her hair, breathing in the subtle scent of wildflowers. "Don't hide things. You've got a bad habit of pretending to be okay when you're not. You've opened up with me before, and God knows you know every inch of my soul by now. Don't shut me out, alright?"

"Okay." He exhaled sharply, releasing the tension built up inside of him since the previous morning, sinking into her arms as they fell back into the grass, wrapped up in each other. Somewhere amongst their embrace, his mouth met hers and clung, and she melted against him, such a sweet submission he couldn't bring himself to stop, not pulling away as quickly as he normally would.

So the kiss lingered, sweet and soft and a slow kindling of a passion his young body knew from first touch, something hot and enticing and exciting that enflamed his very being. They finally broke away, breathless and wanting for air, and he moved his head down for another kiss, but Peyton placed her fingers against his lips. He froze, staring at her in bewilderment.

"What is it?"

"I just think that's enough for now."

"Why?" He kissed her cheek, the side of her neck, his lips warm against her skin. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, of course not."

"Then what?"

"…a tumble in the grass isn't what we need, Luke…that isn't what we're about…

Lucas sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned his head against hers. "You're right. I'm sorry. But…" he trailed off, opening one eye to look at her hesitantly. "Peyt, have you ever thought about…" His eyebrows arched in question as he looked at her, unable to fully give voice to what he was getting at.

Her face flushed, and her eyes narrowed as she swatted him in the arm and moved out of his embrace. "Luke! Why would you ask something like that?!"

"I'm sorry…I just…you know I'm…"

"A guy?" she asked wryly, accepting his embrace as he slipped his arms around her once more, tracing a finger down his chest, "But you know…it's not just guys that think about that stuff."

His face broke out with a vivid blush, and he mumbled incoherently under his breath. She laughed softly and he pulled her against him, falling against the grass on his back, nestling her against him. She pressed her ear against his chest, heard the strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I just don't want that for us."

"I never said I wanted that."

Being with Peyton Sawyer was something he knew could never be casual. It wouldn't be just sex. It'd be making love. That much he knew.

"I know," she gently chided, "But that's not what I'm saying."

"Don't ever think that, Peyt. Honestly, please don't. We've got history and we've got so much going on beneath the surface, no matter what we do, but you know how I feel about you. You've never treated me like I was less," he cupped her face, tracing his fingers along the curve of her cheek as she raised her head to look at him. "You've always looked beyond what I am, to who I am. You always listen. That's what I want."

He could wait. He should wait. He _would_ wait.

She smiled, placing her hands over his. "Good boy," she said simply.

He looked absolutely dumbfounded. "What?"

That sly smile still tugged at her lips as she propped herself up on her elbows, gazing down at him. "You're a good guy, Luke. Don't let anyone change that."

He cocked an eyebrow, his lips quirking with the beginnings of a grin. "Oh? And who do you think it is that's corrupting me?"

Their laughter echoed as he pulled her toward him once more, kissing them both breathless as they fell back into the grass, lost in their shared embrace.


	8. Chapter 8: A Kiss Always Means Something

Sound of Her Voice

**Sound of Her Voice**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Eight: A Kiss Always Means Something**

"You can't keep ignoring this, Luke."

Lucas scowled in Haley's direction as he struggled to whip the batter he held in one hand while trying to the soup simmering in a pot before him with the other. "I'm not ignoring it."

"Of course not," She spat back at him, her voice thick with sarcasm, "And the fact that you haven't called the girl in three days has nothing to do with it."

"Lay off, Haley."

"I won't lay off until you get your head out of your ass and face this whole thing like a man."

"Blunt as ever, Hales."

"At least it's effective." Laying her hands against her hips, she squared off against him, stepping into his path as he made his way toward the refrigerator. Glaring at her, he sidestepped around her and made his way to the appliance, opening up the door to pull out several vegetables: carrots, radishes, tomatoes, and a fresh head of lettuce. Kicking the door shut with his foot, he proceeded to set the food down on the counter and poured the batter he had been previously mixing into a set of muffin pans.

"Why don't you try accepting what happened instead of drowning yourself in denial?"

"I'm not in denial."

"Like hell you aren't."

"Damn it, Haley!" He whirled around, his eyes furious as they locked on her, but Haley was no pushover, standing her ground firmly as she met his anger with grim stubbornness. He scowled at her for a few moments, and then grumbled under his breath, turning back around to return to his work. "I don't know why I bother telling you anything. You never do anything but nag."

"You might regret it, but I'm glad you told me! Someone has to save you from ruining something that's made you happier than you've been in a long time."

"I'm not ruining anything."

"Luke…" her face softened as she sighed. "Why do you always have to be so self-destructive?"

"I'm not self-destructive."

"Of course you're not," she quipped dryly.

"Your sarcasm doesn't help matters."

Lucas tended to the simmering soup and then turned on the water in the sink, expertly rinsing off the vegetables before pulling out a cutting board from a nearby cabinet. Brandishing a large cutlery knife, he set to work, and the kitchen filled with the steady rhythm of the knife chopping against the cutting board as he sliced through the lettuce, then the tomatoes as the silence stretched out before them.

She came up behind him and rested her hands against his shoulders as she pressed her forehead to his back. The sound of his chopping stopped abruptly and he exhaled harshly.

"Why are you so afraid of letting yourself love her?"

"_Here you are, ma'am. Home by curfew, right on the dot."_

_Peyton laughed at his badly accented voice and over exaggerated gestures as he ran around the car to open the door for her before she could. "Laying it on a little thick there, Scott?"_

_He grinned, offering her his arm as they strolled up the crosswalk to her house, coming to a stop at the front steps. "Aw, you know you love it."_

_She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Lucas. I just swoon at your cheesiness."_

_He stuck his tongue out at her. "There was a time you loved all that cheesiness."_

_The words were before his brain caught up with his mouth and things fell silent between them, Lucas's smile fading as he stared at her like a deer-in-the-headlights. His mouth moved uselessly for a few minutes and then he managed to get out, "I…uh…sorry…I-"_

_The stammering words were cut off by the sudden impact of her lips against his and he responded instantly. He buried his hands in her hair as the kiss deepened, far more intense than anything they had shared since their junior year. They separated, breathless, their foreheads pressed together. Lucas stared down at her in awe, taking in her closed eyes, peaceful expression and the little contented smile curving her lips. "Wow," was all he could say, little more than a breathless whisper._

"_I'll say," she responded, opening her eyes to look up at him. _

_He smiled, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Once more, the connection between brain and mouth continued to be nonexistent. "I love you."_

_Her eyes widened and he watched familiar emotions flash through their vivid green: fear, hesitation, denial, indecision, doubt, settling once more on fear, before shutting him out completely. His mind did a mental panic and he quickly backpedaled. "I mean…you know, we've been through so much together…and we got really close last year…so…yeah…" He found himself ending rather lamely and he gulped, backing away from her. "You know what, it's late. I should get going."_

"_Luke!"_

_He waved his hand as he trotted back to his car. "Call you tomorrow, Peyt."_

Lucas closed his eyes, leaning into the touch of her fingers gently brushing against his neck, toying with the hair at his nape. "I…it's not as if I hate feeling like this, it's that I have no idea if I can do this again." He paused, his face contorting into an ugly expression as he viciously cursed under his breath.

He turned and slipped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair and Haley returned his embrace, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He took in a harsh, shuddering breath that caused his body to tremble slightly and she held him all that much tighter.

"I don't understand it, Hales," he murmured against the crook of her neck, "What the hell is wrong with me? How can I want this so bad but be so damn scared of it?"

She released him, cupping his face in her hands as she tilted his head upward, beckoning him to look at her. He did so, and his eyes were dark, shadowed with some unnamed burden she ached to relieve him of, but she knew it was not her place. She only hoped Lucas could learn to let someone in enough to help relieve the pain. Then again, the object of his affections was the very same way. This could be difficult.

"Honestly, Luke, it's something you'll have to figure out on your own. Just don't push Peyton away while you're doing it. Talk to her. Make her understand what you're feeling."

He wordlessly nodded, and she affectionately pressed a light kiss to his cheek. A ghost of his old grin curled his lips, and he opened his mouth to speak when he was interrupted by the soft beeping of the oven timer. He separated from her, and went to tend to his creations, slipping on a pair of mitts. The warmly sweet aroma of apple pie reached her nostrils, and her mouth involuntarily watered as he withdrew the steaming pastry from the oven.

"Who's that for?"

"Peyt," he replied nonchalantly as he placed the pie down to cool, replacing it in the still heated oven with his muffin trays, resetting the timer to the new time.

Haley's eyes widened with interest. "Peyton? So you did talk to her?"

"Yeah. She called last night, said she'd be stopping by this morning."

"So you made her a pie?"

Lucas grimaced, his face twisting into an irritated expression. "I wanted to apologize for acting like a jerk."

"You mean as opposed to the guy who's snapped at anyone coming within two feet of him for the past three days, formerly known as my best friend."

He winced. "Sorry."

"Lucas," she chided, wagging a finger beneath his nose, "Don't apologize, just learn." She grinned slyly. "You know how you can make it up to me?"

He eyed her warily, "Do I even want to know?"

"Maybe, maybe not. I think a piece or two of that pie will even things out."

"No way!"

They continued to bicker back and forth as Lucas continued to tend to the soup and prepare the salad mixture, keeping an eye on the cooling pie and occasionally having to rap his spoon over Haley's knuckles as she made a grab for it. An hour later, he had finished the soup, the salads, and had two-dozen blueberry muffins cooling as he wrapped up the pie for travel.

"Pieeeeeee," Haley moaned dramatically, drawling out the last note plaintively, "Pieeeeeee."

Lucas stuck his tongue out at her in a childish gesture, rapping her over the head with the spoon.

"Ow, Luke! You'll get soup broth in my hair!"

"Don't you two ever grow up?" came an exasperated voice from the kitchen doorway, originating from the shift manager, Ben, as he leaned against the frame and observed them, shaking his head with indulgent amusement.

Lucas grinned unabashedly, ducking his head in a greeting nod. "What can we do for you, Benny boy?"

"You can start by not calling me Benny, Lucas."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Hey, Scott," another head appeared in the doorway at Ben's shoulder, complete with a freckled face, a shock of red hair, and a lazy, toothy grin, "Your girlfriend's waiting out front."

"O'Malley, you look like hell twice over."

Tom O'Malley made a face at him, rubbing his fingers tiredly against his temples. "Up yours, Scott. Don't talk so loud."

A little less than a year before, coming close to the time she was due, Karen had reluctantly taken to cutting back her hours at the café, and hired more help than the two employees she already had. Even with Lucas having stayed at home and helping to work the business, Keith Michael coming into the world only made the need for more staff more apparent, as Karen, after the loss of the child's father, was reluctant to leave her youngest in anyone's care but Lucas's. As of now, the café was run by Karen as proprietor, a friendly family-man by the name of Ben as assistant manager, Lucas running the kitchen. The dishwasher/busboy position was held by the odd character that was Tom O'Malley (a community college student with a penchant for alcohol), and working different shifts were three waitresses, two high-school age and the other a working mother- Sarah, Alexis, and Margie.

Ben scowled, giving the man behind him a shove back toward the front of the store. "Tom, I thought I told you to open up the café."

"Yeah, I was, chief, but it's like I told you, Lucas's girlfriend's waiting for him out front."

"Alrighty," Lucas chirped cheerfully, "Thanks a lot, Tom." He grabbed the pie, clapping Tom hard on the shoulder as the two men stepped back to let him through, causing the redhead to groan loudly and press his hand to his face once more.

"Uh! I told you not to talk so loud!"

Haley's eyes knitted as she regarded him wryly. "Hung over again, Tommy?"

"Bite me."

Ben irritably rubbed his hand over his face, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, "Why me?" He huffed a heavy sigh, giving his watch a quick appraisal. "Alright, everybody, time to get back to work. Lucas, you finish the prep in the kitchen you promised?"

"Yes, sir," Lucas replied as he paused, glancing back at them "Muffins and fresh fruit for breakfast, salad and soup and bread for lunch, the whole shebang."

"You're an angel in the kitchen, Lucas, it's such a shame you're a pain the rest of the time."

"Hardy har-har, you're killing me, Benny. Well then," he flourished a mock-salute, "I'm off then. Enjoy the day."

"See ya, Lucas."

"Call me later, Luke."

"Hope something falls on your head to wipe that grin off your face, Scott."

"You're a real ass when you're hung over, you know that, O'Malley?"

With that final verbal barb, Lucas made his way out into the empty dining room. He found Peyton seated at one of the front tables, casually sipping from a Styrofoam coffee container as her head faced the other direction. She was idly watching the passersby through the front window.

A sudden idea forming in his head, Lucas grinned as he strode toward him. "Peyton," he whined, staring at the blonde forlornly, "How could you?" Watching her turn toward him with a pained, questioning look, he winked reassuringly, his eyes dancing with mischief. "After all we meant to each other, you go off and cheat with other coffee!"

Peyton stared at him for moment with the expression of one looking at a madman and then she shook her head, her face breaking into an indulgent grin she quickly covered with a mocking sneer. "It's your fault. The cheap stuff was enough to satisfy me before, and then you came along and messed with my tastes."

"But Peyton!" He placed a hand over his heart, falling to one knee before her. "Think of all the good times we had together over the coffee maker. Say it isn't so, honey. Tell me you haven't forsaken my special brew for some Starbucks wannabe!"

Her lips thinned into a firm frown. "And what about you? Gallivanting around with some mocha?"

"It meant nothing to me, I swear! I'll give it all up if you'll just take me back!"

Peyton rolled his eyes and gave him a playful shove, unable to hold back a light chortle. "Get up you clown, you're making a scene. Besides, you know nothing could make you give up coffee. You're a grouchy zombie in the morning without the stuff."

"You're probably right," he said as he rose to his feet, dusting off his jeans, "But at least I got a smile and laugh out of you."

"Yes, you did." Her face softened into a gentle smile as he leaned in and pecked her cheek in a habitual kiss. She reached out to grasp his hand, their fingers tightly entwining. "You don't have to work today?"

"Nope. I got a couple of days off. The chief just had me prepare some simple stuff this morning."

"Ah."

"Well, any idea where you want to go? We could grab some breakfast or something." He glanced at his watch. "It's not even ten yet."

She hesitated for a moment and then he smiled wanly. "Somewhere relatively quiet. We need to talk, Luke."

Lucas made a face, but he nodded his assent nonetheless. "We do have to do that, don't we?" He sighed, making a grab for his jacket as he led her toward the door. "What about your place?"

"That's fine."


	9. Chapter 9: Louder than Words

**Sound of Her Voice**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Nine: Louder than Words**

The sight of him had her shaken and slightly pale. She knew it shouldn't, but it did.

The blue-eyed man that was the subject of her thoughts was sitting rather casually, obliviously comfortable, with his arms stretched out across the back of the couch, his head pillowed against the cushion, his eyes closed. His face was relaxed, almost content, softened with a light smile that left him truly beautiful.

Peyton had dated regularly since her early teens, knew the ins and outs and the ups and downs of relationships, but nothing could have prepared her for the shock that was Lucas Scott. She knew that in all her nineteen years she had never met anyone quite like him. She had never, ever been with anyone (even Jake) that treated her as well as Lucas did (their rocky past notwithstanding, and really, she knew that any turbulence between them had been caused by misunderstandings and fear) and she knew especially that she had never felt so strongly for anyone else before. The very thought scared the hell out of her.

"Peyt, you alright?"

Lucas's voice, heavily laced with concern, broke through her reflections and she sighed to herself, rubbing her hands over her face. She took in a deep, shuddering breath in hopes of regaining some form of composure and made her way into the living room. She wiped away tears she never realized had entered her eyes and slowly turned to face him.

She took a seat beside him and smiled weakly, clutching a couch pillow in her lap. "Hey," she said softly.

He returned the smile though the expression came wan and feeble. "Hey," he raised a hand to gently brush his fingers against her cheek, "Are you okay? You look a little pale."

"I'm fine." She leaned back against the couch, struggling between mixed degrees of apprehension and fear. It was tough. Her jilted mind could not seem to decide between the two; either one still had her stomach rolling and her heart thundering. "Luke…" she began and then hesitated, unsure how to continue.

"I'm sorry," he interjected, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, "I said something that made you uncomfortable, and for that I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright," she replied, forcing herself to look at her companion. _All right?_ her mind screamed, _He told you he loves you! How is that all right? _"Did you mean it?"

He looked at her, his expression hopeless and hesitant, "Honestly?" At her nod, he sighed dejectedly, his breath escaping in a harsh rush of breath. "I…I don't really know. I've never felt this way with someone before, but I do know a few things, Peyton. I know that I love your smile and your laugh, how beautiful you are and how kind and how strong. I love your sense of humor and even the small things, like the way your nose crinkles when you're concentrating on a drawing, or the way you crank the music up loud and just dance when you think no one's watching. I know that that I've never felt for anyone before what I feel for you. If that's not love, I really have no idea what is."

The stunned silence stretched out between them. Peyton was struck shell-shocked as she stared straight ahead disbelievingly at the man before her. Lucas cautiously reached out to touch her hand but she flinched away, turning her face away from the hurt that passed through his eyes. She took a deep breath, still unable to bring herself back on kilter, uncertainty killing her inside.

"Peyton? I'm sorry, I said too much." He stood up, combing his fingers through his hair in a habitual gesture of discomfort. "I should probably go."

She reacted instantly, jerking him back by the arm to land back on the sofa beside her. He merely stared at her. "No, don't go. I'm the one who should be apologizing."

"Why? I'm the idiot saying all these things."

"You're not an idiot. You're…it's just…dammit, Lucas!" She felt close to tears from her frustration as she sank back against the couch, unsure what to do, to say, to feel.

He could only watch her helplessly; all too aware of the sudden jeopardy he had put their relationship in. But then again, he truly had no idea of her resolve and sense of feeling for him. Peyton Sawyer wasn't about to let him go without a fight.

She took in another deep breath, leveling an introspective gaze in his direction. "I don't want you to think that I don't care for you, Luke, but think about this. I've barely been back a week. Before that, we didn't see each other or even talk for months. And with everything that happened before I left…" she inwardly winced, hating that the words about to come out of her mouth were the exact opposite of what she really wanted, "There's really no need for us to rush anything."

"We have fun together, don't we, Luke?" even she could hear the barely disguised pleading in her voice, "We're there for each other, and we talk so easily together. That's enough, isn't it?" _Tell me that it's enough; please say it's enough. Lie to me if you have to, just don't say that. Don't say you love me. _

Her words faded into dead silence and she looked anywhere but at Lucas, desperate to see anything that could give some semblance of reassurance, sick at heart from what she knew she had to say. Anything to keep that small distance between them; she would be there for him as the friend he needed, but she couldn't be the lover he wanted, she just couldn't- not yet.

He reached out reached out and touched her hand and Peyton's palm turned over, enveloping his in a tight grip. "I understand," he said quietly, leaning closer to her, "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. You've nothing to apologize for. Just tell me if we're okay."

He smiled softly, leaning even closer until she could feel his breath hot against his lips and then even the minimal space between them closed as his mouth descended over hers. The kiss was soft and undemanding, a gentle press of lips to lips meant to convey everything he could never say, meant to soothe and reassure. But even with that single simple contact, a heat stirred between them, and as he moved to pull away a few moments later, Peyton cupped her hand behind his head, keeping him in place, desperate to feel more of that heat's intensity.

Lucas shuddered and suddenly that simple kiss became something more, heat steadily rising into a smoldering inferno. It culminated in a strange, aching knot in his abdomen, setting his nerves aflame with incredible feelings he couldn't begin to understand. He was suddenly aware of every sensation, the soft sound of their breathing, the hands gliding up his back, clutching at his shoulders, the hair brushing against his cheek, the hunger slowly awakening inside. He pulled her closer to him and the lithe body pressing into him only sharpened the ache, heightened the hunger and the longing. The kiss deepened, startling them both at the sudden tentative touch, and then they opened to the intimacy, drowning themselves in each other.

She was numbly aware of her back meeting the couch, concentrating instead on the powerful body leaning into her, the comfortable weight settling over her and the sudden friction of the hips aligning with hers. She moaned softly, surrendering to that same drowning sensation as they came together in another kiss, strong fingers entangling through her hair, burying themselves wrist-deep in her curls. She ran his hands downward, beckoned by the warmth soaking through the thin fabric of the t-shirt he wore, logic taking a back seat to desire as she slid her hands beneath the shirt, marveling at the contrast between the warm, smooth skin and the hard muscles beneath her fingertips.

Like a lightning strike, her touch sent a shock through his system, tearing a startled sound from his throat, halfway between a yelp and a groan. He drew back, staring down at the woman beneath him, his eyes widening. She gazed up at him through hooded eyes. She was the very essence of temptation with her hair tangled and loose around him, her mouth swollen and red. The intimate press of her body to his was evident through every point where he felt their bodies meet. He swallowed hard, desire evident in his eyes though a vivid flush warmed his face and he found it hard to meet hers eyes. "That…that was…" he trailed off, unable to find much clear coherence in his passion-clouded awareness.

"That was…wow," she whispered, a small smile curved her kiss-bruised lips and she lifted a hand to ghost her fingers against his cheek, brushing his thumb against the corner of his mouth.

He managed a smile of his own, amused with his own mortification and he teasingly kissed the finger against his lips. "I think we're more than okay."

A soft, breathless sound of amusement escaped her, and he kissed her once more, lingeringly, before pulling back, raising himself into a sitting position, Peyton following after. She helplessly ran her fingers through her tangled mane of hair, sticking her tongue out in Lucas's direction as he caught sight of his amused smirk. "It's your fault!"

He only regarded her with the same light, teasing smile, combing his fingers through the long, silky hair. "Have I ever told you how much I love these curls?" he commented softly, "I liked your hair last summer, but you're so beautiful like this."

She flushed, leaning forward to hide her face in the crook of his shoulder. She affectionately nuzzled against him. "Thanks," she mumbled, pressing a light kiss to his neck, felt the strange sensation of the fluttering pulse beneath her lips. Curious, she placed a hand against his chest, startled by the frantic pounding she felt there. "Your heart's racing," she whispered fervently.

He placed his hand over hers, feeling a fainter vibration of his own heartbeat through her hand. "Of course it is," he replied, the tender light in his eyes enough to melt her heart, "It's you."

Peyton said nothing more as she pushed forward and kissed him again, and even as they came together once more, rendering Lucas senseless and impassioned, turning his world off-kilter, the one thought he could not dismiss continued to resound through his mind. That even as they pressed so close, there was no denying the distance Peyton was forcing between them.

She didn't want him to love her. That much was clear. But it was already far too late.

--

The next day they made their way to the cemetery and the moment Lucas set his brother down before the grave, the child was fascinated. He crawled across the grass, plopping himself down as he curiously traced his fingers over the engravings on the stone. He looked up at his brother inquiringly, "Dada?"

Lucas smiled tenderly, nodding. "Yeah, that's Daddy."

Keith Michael grinning up at him, beginning to babble happily at his "father". Lucas watched him with an almost reverence, tears pricking his eyes. Picking up on his distress, Peyton came to his side, wrapping her arms around him. She rested her head against his shoulder. "It's a great thing you're doing, Luke. For both Keith and Michael."

"I know. I just…I wish he was here in a way that I could see him, touch him. I know he'd be so proud of Michael."

"Of course he is. Of both his sons."

He smiled softly and let the tears fall, quietly and contently. She held him in silence, pressing a kiss to her bicep as they stood and watched Michael. Eventually, the baby began to squirm uncomfortably, looking over his shoulder to look at them pleadingly. Lucas glanced at his watch, "Look at that. Past noon already. I bet somebody's hungry."

Peyton smiled down at the boy, picking him up. "Let's go get some grub then. Luke, do you want a few minutes alone?"

"If you don't mind."

"Of course not," she lifted Michael up, teasingly tickling his sides and earning a giggle, "Let's give your brother some time with your daddy, huh?"

Watching them go, Lucas turned back to the resting place of the man he considered his father. "Hey, Keith. How're doing up there? Y'know, I can't help but wonder what you and Michael were talking about. I hope it wasn't about me. If it was, don't believe anything you heard. And hey, I bet you noticed, but Peyton's here. It's been forever, but she's finally back. Crazy, huh?"

He knelt down, resting his head against the stone, leaning his head against his forearm. "I love her. I'm in love with her. I think I always have been," he took in a shaky breath, "I think she loves me too, but she's scared. She's scared and I don't blame her. It'll take time, I know, but it'll be hard to wait. I guess I just have to be patient. I've screwed up a lot in the past and she has to learn to trust me again." He sighed, "What do I do, Keith? How do I get her to believe in me again?"

A long pause and then a quiet chuckle. "Yeah, you're right. Thanks, man. I should get back, but I want you to know that I miss you. See you soon."

He made his way back down the path and Peyton smiled warmly, Keith Michael at her hip, as he approached. He slipped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into his side. Keith Michael gurgled at him in greeting before nestling back against Peyton. "So what did you two talk about?" she asked him.

He gave her a shy, secretive smile and said simply. "Oh, you know. Just guy talk."


	10. Chapter 10: I'm Yours to Hold

**Sound of Her Voice**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Ten: I'm Yours to Hold**

"You know something? The moment I first saw you, I had the strangest feeling my life was never going to be the same again."

"Did you? Maybe it was a fated meeting."

"Do you believe in all that about fate and destiny?"

"I believe that there are people in the world each of us are meant to meet. Each of these people are destined to impact our lives in some way, whether we come to love them or otherwise. There is one special someone who we are fated to be tied to, a special someone we are born to love."

"Soulmates? You know, that concept doesn't sound so bad. I'll tell you something else. That time, our first meeting…I was scared. Something inside me just knew that you were there to change my world, and the very thought scared the hell out of me."

"Me too."

She leaned closer to him; close enough to brush nose to nose as their vision blurred with the proximity. "Are you scared now?"

He gently reached for her hand, placing it palm side down against his bare chest. "Do you feel it?" he asked softly.

"Your heart…it's racing…"

"I'm not scared, honey, but my heart…my heart is yours, Peyton. It's beating for you. Maybe…maybe I was born to love you…"

"Soul mates, Luke…"

--

"So…"

Peyton glanced up from her sketchbook, arching an eyebrow at the inquisitive tone to Haley's voice. "So?"

The other woman grinned at her, seated opposite of Peyton on the bleachers. "So…what's the deal between you and Luke?"

Peyton kept her expression into a mask of neutral nonchalance, shrugging a shoulder. "What about us?"

"Peyton," the gossipmonger in Haley was alive and kicking, and Peyton couldn't help but smile slightly. It was nice feeling, she thought, just sitting here and hanging out with her friend. It was like being in high school again, minus the drama. "Don't leave me hanging here! Lucas told me about the other night. I know there's got to be more."

A shrug and then she gave a noncommittal, "Not much."

"Peyton!" Haley dramatically flailed her arms. "Give it up! This is too big to keep to yourself," she gave her friend a mournful expression, "C'mon, girly!"

Peyton rolled her eyes and she laughed, "Dude! You are way too nosy for your own good." She threw a pencil in Haley's direction. The musician ducked out of the way, sticking her tongue out.

"I'm nosy because you refuse to dish it out! So, come on, spill."

Peyton smiled, leaned back against the bleachers and finally relented. "Alright, already. If it'll get you to stop badgering me. What do you want to know?"

Haley smiled gleefully. "Finally! What the heck's going on? One minute you guys are all coupley and the next you're denying that you're together."

"That's because we're not."

"Uh-huh. And my husband was a virgin altar boy when we got married."

Peyton snickered at that, but still she still shook her head. "Haley…"

"I'm serious. One, you two spend all your time together," she continued, ticking each point of topic off on her fingers, "Two, you guys talk, not chats, but those long, deep, 'I'll see into your soul if you see into mine' conversations- which pretty much means you know anything and everything about each other.

Three, he's told you he loves you. And four, you two are always touching. Don't think I don't know about those make-out sessions you seem to consider 'friendly kisses'. If that's not off the platonic beaten-path, I don't know what is. You guys pretty much meet all the criteria of a dating couple. Except maybe sex." She stopped, giving Peyton a suspicious look. "You guys aren't, are you?"

"No!" Peyton flushed, giving the other woman a glare.

"Good. Cause that would make a complicated situation hopelessly entangled. And now, end of that train of thought. I don't want to think of my best friend and sex in the same context." She shuddered.

"You brought it up," the artist told her wryly.

"Just making sure the two of you aren't getting yourselves stuck between a rock and a hard place."

Peyton's face fell serious, her eyes open and vulnerable for the first time in their conversation. "Look, Hales, I don't have much to tell you. I'm still trying to figure it out for myself. Just know that I love Luke. He's practically my best friend and he's the first guy to see into my heart. I care about him, I want him, but it's not time."

Haley nodded, part of her wanting to prod further but respectful enough to be content with the blonde's answer. "Alright. I can live with that."

"Cool. Does that mean you'll stop snooping?"

"I only snoop because I care," Haley singsonged, unable to help the little, quirky grin that her lips rose into. She had forgotten how much she missed this, just the hanging out and bantering back and forth. It used to be like this with Lucas, too, when they were a little younger, but over the last year, her best friend had become more solemn and morose, withdrawing from the people that cared about him. He dutifully worked the café and took care of his family, but still, there was a distance in his eyes whenever she and Nathan visited that Haley knew she couldn't breach. The only time he really seemed animated in any way was around Keith Michael.

He would shrug off their concerns, adamant that he was fine. He was just a little tired, or stressed, or lost in thought. But the little turned into a lot, then that turned into all the time, and concerned Karen was constantly calling her in hopes of finding a solution. The only solution either woman could think of was in the form of a curly-haired blonde hundreds of miles away. Lucas's moodiness had began with Peyton's departure. They had sat back, waited patiently and sure enough, with her homecoming, his good nature made an astonishingly abrupt return.

Meanwhile, Lucas, who had been caught up in an intense game with Nathan on the blacktop, came trotting up to them. He grinned down at Peyton. "Hey, seen any good basketball games lately?"

She smiled. "Not since the last time Duke played," she said lightly. She amusedly watched his brow furrow and made a faux confused expression. "Oh," she pointed toward the court, "You mean this one? Eh, it was okay."

He pouted, dramatically sticking out his lower lip. "That hurts, Peyt. Right here." He patted a hand over his chest. She leaned over, taking his hand away and she pressed her lips to his chest, right above where she could feel his heart galloping.

"Better?"

"Y-yeah. Thanks."

For a brief moment, she puzzled over the red flush that rose to his cheeks but as she mentally reviewed what she had done, her eyes widened. The game was rough, the day was hot, and both he and Nathan were sweating and panting for breath. He was shirtless, tanned skin like golden velvet as it pulled over lean, rippling muscle. The overhanging sun caused the sweat coating his skin to glisten in the glow and as she watched a droplet bead down his impressive chest, she unconsciously licked her lips.

She was broken out of her stupor when Haley leaned over and whispered in her ear, so only the two of them could hear. "Right. Just friends, my ass."

Peyton winced, but still could not tear her attention away from Lucas. Her body trembled with sudden, heavy awareness of him and a wicked blush of her own worked its way up in her cheeks. Their eyes met and her breath caught at the dark hunger evident in normally serene blue. She cleared her throat and looked away, fidgeting uncomfortably. Unfortunately for them both, the skirt she wore rode up ever so slightly as she crossed and uncrossed her legs, and his eyes followed every movement. Damn, he had always loved her legs. A spike of heat jolted through him, straight down to his groin and he swallowed hard, both shamed and thrilled.

He was brought back to reality by a sudden snap of fingers in front of his face and his head whirled around to meet Nathan's bewildered eyes. "You alright, bro? Haley's tried to get your attention like six times."

Lucas glanced at his sister-in-law, who was giving him a strangely knowing look. He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry, Hales."

"It's fine. I was just asking if you and Peyton wanted to have lunch with us, our treat. Since you beat my dear husband so badly, I think we owe you one."

"Hey!"

Nathan's protests went unheeded and Lucas sighed regretfully. "I'll have to take a rain check. I promised my mom I'd stay with Michael. Speaking of which," he glanced at his watch, "I have to get going. Peyt, you coming or staying?"

"Definitely coming."

Lucas smiled at the quickly-delivered comment. Peyton's soft spot for Keith Michael was no secret. "We should be get going then." He threw a companionable arm around Peyton and for a moment, the blonde leaned into him, before abruptly pulling back. She wrinkled her nose. "Ew, you're all sweaty. And you stink. You need a shower."

His mouth cocked into a flirtatious smile. "Will you be joining me?"

The last thing Nathan and Haley heard before they left was the sound of Peyton's hand slapping his chest and the exclamation of, "You perv!"

--

A sharp, shrill wailing broke through the six a.m. silence permeating the Scott/Roe household. It wasn't hard to identify the source of the sound.

Lucas groaned, burying his face in his pillow. "Ugh. I am _not_ getting up again."

Beside him, Peyton smiled at his whining tone. "You probably don't have to. Karen will probably get him."

He frowned, tightening his arms around her as he rested his chin against her shoulder. "Yeah, but I feel bad. I know she's tired."

She propped herself up on an elbow, smoothing his hair back against his forehead, "Because she's a working mom. And her firstborn is tired too, especially since he worked overtime all week and got up with his baby brother at three in the morning."

"You forgot beating his bigger little brother's ass in basketball."

"That too," she leaned down to kiss him, "It was a great game, Luke. You definitely look good in action."

Almost of its own accord, his body straightened up just a little, his chest puffed out with pride and he felt much like a strutting peacock. There was something to be said about getting praise from the woman you loved. "Don't you forget it, woman."

"Oh, Lucas, you're so macho. Such a stud," she batted her eyes, keeping her voice in such a ridiculously high falsetto he rolled his eyes.

He stood up, languidly stretching. "Yeah, well, as much as I love the stroking of my ego, I get the feeling we won't be getting any more sleep now. How's breakfast sound?"

She perked up, a child-like smile lighting up her face. "Pancakes?"

He nodded. "Sure. Sausage and eggs too?"

"If you insist."

He bowed with flourish. "I do. It's my sworn duty to feed the stomachs of gorgeous women."

"What would I do without you, Lucas Scott?"

He leaned down to her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "You'll never have to find out."


	11. Chapter 11: My Fears Abound

**Sound of Her Voice**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Eleven: My Fears Abound**

Kisses, touches…ravaging lips…seeking hands…burning body heat…irresistible passion. Peyton moaned softly as Lucas leaned further into her, his fingers tangling through her hair as he sought her lips in another kiss. She opened to him immediately, falling into the heady ecstasy she could never seem to deny whenever he touched her, ignoring the way the concrete of the wall they hid behind bit into her back as he pressed into her. Instead, she savored the new proximity, overwhelmed by the feel of his body against hers.

It was incredible, really, the way he could make her feel, in those moments when she became oblivious to anything but him, feeling nothing more than Lucas all around her, filling her senses; his lips, his hands, his body, his scent, the husky whisper of his voice in her ear. It was him, all him, only him.

They parted reluctantly only at the need to breathe, and he whispered her name as he trailed his mouth downward in a trail of light, feathery kisses, reaching a particularly sensitive spot just above her collarbone, guaranteed to have her weak in the knees. He gently bit down, and then ran his tongue over the tender flesh, feeling her tremble against him. He leaned further into her, angling his body to lie fully over hers, and she gasped, startled, as she felt the hard evidence of his want press against the apex of her legs.

"L-Luke," she barely managed to moan his name before his mouth clamped over hers once more, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, demanding but gentle. She linked her arms around his neck, locking her legs around his waist as she levered herself upward to come closer, even closer, and the feel of him pressed intimately against her sent pinpricks of pleasure coursing through her body.

They broke apart once more and his lips were at her ear, something oddly sensual about his hot, panting puffs of breath brushing against her skin. "Peyton, I want you."

The words had the same effect as a sudden dousing of ice-cold water, as she jerked away from him, her eyes wide, fearful; as she pushed him back with all the strength she could muster. He stumbled back, staring at her with bewilderment. "Peyt?"

"_I want this . . . you know. I wanna be here. I wanna have everything with you. I want it all. I want us, Peyton."_

She squeezed her eyes shut, taking in a deep breath in hopes of regaining some composure. She opened them once more, the lines between past and present blurred before her eyes, and she forced herself to focus on Lucas's face, Luke's hurt but understanding face. Her rejection might hurt him, but her distance he understood. Her heart hurt at the soft, sympathetic, lost look in his blue eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, "I got carried away. Are you okay?"

She nodded her head, not trusting herself to speak.

He stared at her, torn emotions blanketing his face, for he was always the readable one these days, the one who wore his heart on his sleeve, the one whose face served as a mural to his inside workings. She was the stone-wall, the cold one, the distant one. Even with all the barriers she had allowed him to tear down, so many more remained between them.

He reached out to her, intending to take her hand, and then he hesitated, unsure whether he could touch her or not. "Are you sure? You don't look okay. Want to talk about it?"

Lucas. He was Lucas. The Lucas she loved and the Lucas who loved her, the same Lucas who wanted to touch her because of that love, who wanted to feel her, to be with her, because of that love. He was the same boy who once wanted her heart, to be there, and wanted to be with her. The same boy who wanted everything with her, but three years later, she still wasn't sure she was ready to give everything to him. She shook her head, reaching out to catch his hand, their fingers tightly enlacing. She tried to smile at him, though the expression came out forced and wan. "Nah, that's alright. It's just me, freaking out. I'm good, really."

Lucas eyed her dubiously. "You don't want to talk, that's fine. But you shouldn't pretend just for me. Not with me, Peyton. You and me, we're honest, right? That's the way it should be between us."

Her sweet golden boy- always gentle, always concerned. Her smile, this time, was a little more genuine, taking on a sensual edge, sauntering toward him once more, breathing in his clean, masculine scent as it wrapped around her as surely as his embrace the more she closed the distance between them. "Hey, I'm sorry I freaked. You don't have to worry about me, Luke. I'm a big girl."

The reassurance learned a faint smile from him, fading quickly as a strangled sound, somewhere a protest and a groan, tore from his throat when she boldly cupped her hand over the bulge in his jeans. "P-Peyton!"

She smiled sweetly, squeezing him gently, earning a ragged moan. "I shouldn't leave you high and dry, should I?"

Every word that escaped her mouth, every gesture and suggestive smile made her feel even more detached, distant from herself, even as the faint thought that she wanted to please him entered her mind. She had felt this before, the floating, detached sensation that felt like she separated from herself, letting her body work on automatic- it used to be that way with Nathan, back before Lucas Scott had quite literally stumbled into her life. It wasn't fair to keep doing this to him, she knew, giving all the mixed signals, leaving him frustrated and unfulfilled- both physically and emotionally. She'd have to start making it up to him.

Meanwhile, his mind went into overdrive, clouded and reeling, only dimly aware as she knelt before him, felt the heat left by her touch as she smoothed her hands up his legs, stroking his thighs in light, teasing caresses. It wasn't until she reached for the button of his jeans that he saw the look in her eyes. Empty. Distant. Pained.

He reacted instantly, reaching down to grab her wrists, jerking her upward to her feet to pull her into his arms. Initially, instinctually, she fought against him, pummeling his chest, landing a well-aimed kick to his groin that had him grunting and wanting to double over in pain, but he held her securely, and eventually her struggles faded into shaking, the bitter oaths she muttered under her breath changing into sobs.

They hit the ground, his knees buckling under him, but he held her tightly as he took the brunt of the impact, pulling her into his lap, cradling her against his body. She suddenly felt so small in his arms, trembling as she cried, soaking his shirt through with the salt of her tears. He stroked her hair, murmuring in her ear, all the reassurances he could muster.

"Baby, it's okay, I'm here. I'm here with you. I'm not going anywhere." He pressed a light kiss to her temple, gently rocking her. With time, the convulsions quieted, and she lay almost limply against him, still and silent as the heavy warmth of the summer afternoon around them. She stirred, and he tightened his arms around her even more, if that was possible, brushing away the hair shielding her eyes, kissing away the moisture remaining on her beautiful, tear-soaked face. He held her face in his hands, tilting her head to face him. "Baby, don't lose yourself for me. Not like that. If you're not ready, we're not ready. There's no need to push, alright?"

She nodded, hesitantly opened her eyes to look up at him, her eyes vulnerable but her smile tinged with a hint of her old sass. "Thanks, Luke, for knowing what I need."

He smiled quietly, kissing her forehead. "Anytime. Just returning the favor."

She laughed softly and smiled, placing her hands over his as she kissed him gently, leaning her forehead against his. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"Just being yourself, Peyt. Just being yourself."

She hugged him, burying her face in the crook of his neck and just took a moment to savor the sheer presence of him. Reluctantly, she drew back from him as she glanced at his watch, reaching up to affectionately touch his cheek. "Someone's got to go back to work. Your break ended fifteen minutes ago."

He pouted and she knew from his expression he was about to protest, but when she gave him a stern look, he gave him. He sighed dramatically, offering her a hand up as they both stood. He dusted off his pants and chastely pressed his lips to hers, playfully rubbing his nose against hers in an Eskimo kiss. "See you tonight?"

"Absolutely."

He smiled cutely, giving her a wave as he slipped through the back entrance into the café kitchen, most likely hoping to avoid detection by his mother or Ben. Peyton sighed as the door shut quietly behind him, slumping back against the wall they had engaged in…activities…against. The alleyway they had been hiding in was suddenly eerily quiet and the silence seemed as heavy as the thoughts bombarding her mind. As usual, it was Lucas Scott that troubled her. Really, if she was brave enough to admit it to herself, she knew this man was all she wanted- all she had _ever _wanted.

But if she got what she wanted, how long before she lost it? She really didn't want to find out.

--

_There were butterflies in her stomach. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt like that. _

_Her nerves are on overload and she frowned with slight annoyance as she realized the hand she had raised to the door was shaking. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in hopes of steadying herself. And she knocked. The door opened slowly, revealing Lucas's confused face. "Peyton?" the question was evident in his voice as he moved out of the way, letting her into the room. _

_He closed the door and turned back to her, clearly waiting for an explanation to her presence. She hesitated and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "I heard about Nathan." _

"_Yeah…" he trailed off and she noticed for a minute that his eyes darted around, seeming to land on anything on her, "He's going to be okay." In response, the most she could offer was a nod, feeling rather stupid at the lame excuse, knowing how strange it was to come to Lucas about Nathan of all people. Meanwhile, he cast a furtive glance toward the opposite door to his room and then looked back at her. "So what's up?"_

_His brow furrowed with both bewilderment and concern, making it clear he had picked up on his discomfort. The worried look in his gentle eyes that always worked to undo her made it even harder to speak. She glanced around, slightly panicky as she struggled to gain some composure and she took in a deep breath. _

_It was now or never. _

"_Lucas, I made a mistake. When you said you wanted to be with me, I got…" she ran a hand through her curls, trying to push past the lump rising in her throat at the idea of confessing any sort of vulnerability, "I got scared…and I pushed you away. But-"_

"_Peyton-" he moved to interrupt but she held up her hand. If she stopped now, she would never get this out- that much she knew. _

"_But the truth is…I want all the same things you want, I do," she tilted her head slightly, the look in her eyes conveying all he would need to know about her feelings. Her voice softened, suddenly shy, "And I want them with you."_

_The look on his face was unreadable and as the silence drew out between them, she felt those butterflies return full-force. He suddenly scoffed, his face twisting into something she didn't recognize. "Are you serious?"_

_Her eyes widened and her stomach dropped forebodingly. "W-what?"_

_His lips curled distastefully. "You reject me, and you expect me to take you back?"_

"_I…I thought…"_

"_Hey superstar, you ready to score?"_

_A half-naked Brooke, only wearing a familiar grey hoodie, sauntered out into the room, her smile seductive. The smile faded into a questioning look as she caught sight of the blonde standing near the door. "What's going on?"_

_Lucas chuckled darkly, crossing his arms across his chest. "Someone's decided she "wants everything" with me."_

_Brooke's eyebrows arched and she laughed incredulously. "Seriously? Jeez, Peyton, how lame can you get?" She slinked over to Lucas, grabbing onto his arm and draping her over him. _

_Lucas wrapped an arm around her and sneered at Peyton. "Why would I want you? Covered head to toe with issues for one thing. Too much drama. I'm not into head games, babe."_

_Brooke smirked, pulling his head down to crush her lips to his. Lucas responded instantly, drawing her closer as they shared a long, wetly lewd kiss. Peyton blinked back tears, stepping back as her knees shook. The couple in front of her broke apart. "What are you still doing here?" Lucas grumbled._

"_Yeah, Peyton," Brooke singsonged, "Why don't you go before you make more of a fool of yourself?"_

_Peyton sobbed, backing away as their mocking laughter ran through the air. "Stop it! Stop!"_

"Peyton. Peyton, honey, wake up." A hand shaking her arm, a voice urgently whispering in her ear had Peyton shooting up, her panicked eyes darted around the room, coming to settle on a concerned Karen, leaning over her. "Peyton, are you alright, sweetie? It looked like you were having an awful mess of a dream."

Peyton struggled for breath, wrapping her arms around herself as she realized she was trembling. "Karen? Where am I?"

Karen gave her a soft look of concern, "You're at our place. But tell me, honey, are you okay?"

"I…I think so. It was just a nightmare," she looked around at the living room to Karen and Lucas's home, forehead wrinkled with thought as she tried to piece together the happenings, "I must have fallen asleep."

"Were you waiting for Lucas?" at the young woman's nod, Karen reached up and brushed back stray curls that had fallen in green eyes, smiling softly, "He's working past closing tonight. He won't be back for a couple hours."

"Oh," Peyton looked down, "I guess I should go then…"

Karen watched her expression, knowing the girl was reluctant to go, but was hesitant to take advantage of Lucas and herself- at least, that was Peyton's view on the matter. Larry had only been able to stay a week after his daughter's return and while Peyton had promised her son she would stay the full three months of vacation, Karen knew staying alone in that big house had to be more than a little lonely. Not to mention, she knew Peyton had been staying in her eldest's room every night since her father had left. They tended to wait until she had gone to bed before they came back to the house, but she wasn't stupid- she was a mother, after all.

She straightened up, getting up the couch to rise to her feet. She gave the girl a tender smile. "I was going to make some tea. Would you like some?"

Peyton bit her lips and then shyly nodded. "I'd like that."

Not long after, both women were seated in the kitchen, cups of steaming tea set out before them. Peyton delicately sipped from her cup. "Lavender," she muttered thoughtfully, "That was my mom's favorite."

"Was it?" Karen smiled. "She must have been a woman of excellent taste."

Peyton smiled and a comfortable silence stretched out between them as they sat, comfortably sipping from their tea. The quiet was broken when the young artist looked up at her best friend's mother, hesitating for a moment. "He loves me, doesn't he?"

Karen was silent for a moment, her expression placid. She didn't have to question the idenity of their conversation topic. "He does."

Peyton looked away. "What do I do?"

"That's up to you, dear. No one can make the decision for you."

"What if I don't know what the right thing is?"

Karen reached over, placing a hand over hers. "Then talk to him," she said softly, "Let him help you decide."

Peyton took a deep breath, slowly nodded and squeezed Karen's hand in return.

For now, she could take comfort in the silence. It seemed she couldn't stay quiet for much longer.


	12. Chapter 12: I'll Find My Way Home

**Sound of Her Voice**

By Alaricnomad

A/N: Okay, so I completely stole the first part from 4.05, minus the creepiness that was psycho Derek. I thought it was cute until it went all pervy.

**Chapter Twelve: I'll Find My Way Home**

_LS3: hey._

_DarkAngel: hey, what's up?_

_LS3: just thinking of you_

_LS3: i love that smile_

_DarkAngel: what else do you love?_

_LS3: those green eyes of yours. beautiful._

_DarkAngel: shut up._

_LS3: aw, you're blushing._

_DarkAngel: dude!!_

_LS3: you don't want me to see, you shouldn't have the cam on. _

_DarkAngel: smartass._

_DarkAngel: stalker._

_LS3: you love me._

_DarkAngel: whatever. _

_LS3: you coming over tonight? I rented some DVDs, thought we could have a movie night. _

_DarkAngel: depends. you springing for pizza?_

_LS3: absolutely. _

_DarkAngel: no mushrooms. _

_LS3: you spoil all my fun._

_DarkAngel: luke…_

_LS3: just kidding._

_LS3: i know you're allergic._

_LS3: see you at six?_

_DarkAngel: you know it._

_LS3: I'll be seeing you. _

_LS3 signed off at 2:36:40 p.m._

_DarkAngel signed off at 2:37:03 p.m._

--

Loud rock music bombarded the walls of her childhood bedroom, her curly-haired head bobbing rhythmically to the melody. She was oblivious to all the goings-on around her as her drawing pad was ready and present, her hands darting fiercely across the page as she sketched. It was moments like this he most loved seeing her in. Her face was so animated with concentration, full of small gestures he knew so well- the little wrinkle between her brows when she was deeply immersed, the way her nose crinkled up when she looked things over and found something she disliked. The way she bit her lip when she was stuck, the way the side of her mouth cocked into a little smile when she was pleased with the end product.

Her eyes took on a certain kind of spark, a creative fire that strangely elated him. It made him happy to see her happy, and a handful of the times he'd stumbled across her lost in her art and music were some of happiest he had ever seen her.

"Taking up stalking as a hobby?"

The wry comment caught him off-guard. His eyes snapped up to meet hers and he flushed at the amused, knowing smile she gave him. "Er…sorry."

"No big. So what brings you to my humble abode, Scott? I thought I was coming to your place."

He shrugged. "I was bored, so I'd pick you up instead."

She glanced at the clock and quirked an eyebrow. "Lucas, you're an hour and a half early."

He looked away, shrugging again, and she knew there was more to the story. "Luke, what's wrong?"

"M'fine."

"No, you're not. You seem to forget, I know you better than that."

His jaw clenched and he tossed her a glare. "I said it's nothing! Why are you pushing?!"

A fire sparked in her eyes and she immediately reacted. "Don't you dare yell at me, Lucas Scott! I was only trying to help. If you're going to be an ass about it, you know where the door is!"

He was immediately repentant, guilt blanketing his expression. "Oh, God, Peyton, I'm sorry."

She looked at him for a moment and then sighed, running a hand through the errant curls she had tousled in her temper. "It's okay. Just…sit down, Luke, and tell me what's going on."

Idly, the quiet command in her voice reminded him of a mixture of his mother, Haley and something uniquely Peyton. Either way, he quickly obeyed and seated himself on the bed. He heaved a heavy sigh. "The state prison called our lawyer this morning."

Her heart dropped- that couldn't be good. She sat down beside him. "Dan?"

"Yeah. He's appealing his sentence."

"Oh, Luke."

She tucked her hand into his and he gave it a grateful squeeze, interlacing their fingers. "Yeah…"

"He can't possibly stand a chance of going back to trial so soon, can he?"

"…probably not…but it doesn't change how much nerve he has, trying something like this."

She soothingly rubbed her hand against his bicep. "I'm sorry, Luke. I know how much it has to hurt to be reminded of all of this."

He sighed and wrapped an arm around her, drawing her closer to him. She leaned against his shoulder. "Yeah, it hurts like hell, but it helps, y'know, knowing the bastard's got enough evidence against him to be kept away."

"There you go then."

He sighed softly, visibly relaxing beside her. "Thank you for listening."

"After everything you've done for me?" she kissed him gently. "It's the least I could do."

--

Their choice of the night had been a handful of bad, B-rated horror films. Stuffed full to the brim of pepperoni pizza, they were lounging lazily on the couch in the middle of a movie about a man with a crazily possessed hand. Lucas's delight proved to be that fact that Peyton was not a big fan of scary movies, extremely jumpy and slightly spooked by the dark. Waiting for a particularly creepy cliffhanger, he lifted up the hem of her shirt and tickled his fingers against her back.

"LUCAS!!"

Incensed, she moved to slap him, squealing with surprise as he suddenly whirled her around, digging his fingers into her ribs as he tickled her. His body leaned over her, his face animated with boyish glee as she collapsed in helpless laughter, begging him to stop with bated breath between giggles. Lucas didn't let up, pressing her back against the couch as he continued. Peyton writhed and squirmed beneath him, dragging her nails down his neck, tugging at his hair, threatening him between bouts of laughter, but still he did not let her go.

Slender legs locked around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back as she used her new hold on him as leverage, arching up against him in an attempt to throw him off. Lucas barely budged, but he did pause, and she took advantage of his distraction, flipping them over so she lay atop of him. They sunk down against the sofa cushions, and they adjusted to the new position. A strangled groan tore from his throat as they pressed intimately close. He gazed down at her, his smile gone the room quiet but for the sound of their ragged breathing and the muted sounds of the movie in the background.

"Peyton," he muttered, the husky whisper carrying through the quiet room despite the softness of his tone, the intensity underlying the simple statement unmistakable. Suddenly, every inch of him pressed against him flared with intensity, burning her out. She felt the unmistakable prodding of his arousal, his thigh pressing hard against her. He shifted uncomfortably, an involuntary moan escaping her lips as her body reacted. He tensed at the sound, suddenly aware he wasn't the only one affected by their proximity.

Time seemed to stop.

Their eyes met and locked. Slowly but steadily, he skimmed his hand upward. He seemed to trail fire wherever he touched as he set her senses ablaze, as his hand climbed higher, over her ankle and her leg, ghosting up to slip beneath the leg hem of her denim cut-offs. His other hand followed the same path on her opposite leg and she shivered as calloused fingers danced circles along the inside of her thighs.

His hands suddenly withdrew and she whimpered at the loss, arching against him in silent plea. Lucas pressed his lips to her ear. "Shh, sweetheart, it's alright. I'll take care of you. Just lay back for me."

His damp breath expelled with his words, brushing tauntingly against the sensitive skin of her neck and she shivered once more. She moved to do as he had requested; he laid a hand against the small of her back as she leaned back, him leaning upward, until her back hit the couch cushions. He lay on his side next to her, facing her as he reached out. He touched his fingers to the curve of her elbow and then slowly skimmed them upward, coming to rest at her wrist to feel the wildly fluttering pulse there. Slowly, not taking his eyes off hers, he lowered his mouth to the same place, a strange thrill ringing through him as he felt the erratic pulsing beneath his lips.

She watched him, enthralled by the strange sensuality of it all; the pleasurable shiver that rang through her at his touch, the intoxicating heat of his mouth. This was the difference, the distinctive line between sex and making love. The difference lay in the slow, sensual, careful way they could take things. How things they only thought they knew about each other seemed new and exciting, ready to be rediscovered. How there were dozens of others they never knew about, just waiting to be explored.

Like the strange contrast of sensation that washed over her as he rubbed his cheek against her hand. The paradox created in the way the roughness of his skin, created by the light stubble along his jaw, differed to the softness of his lips as he brushed them delicately against the open palm she laid against the side of his face. Or the silky feel of his hair as she combed her fingers through it, or the intensity that sparked in his eyes as he looked at her, darkened with desire and a deeper, thicker emotion she now knew to be love.

He levered over her, kissing the curve of her neck as he wasted little time unfastening the button and snap to her shorts. He raised his head, his eyes locking with hers, searching for consent as he gently tugged the cut-offs down and slipped a hand between her legs.

His exploration was tentative, suddenly realizing this was the first time he had ever touched her so intimately. His fingers came back wet and he ventured further, pressing inside her. Her body parted to welcome him and he moved against her slowly, gently, building up that aching pressure inside her.

She whimpered, hips lifting to meet every movement of his hand. He peppered kisses against her cheek, grunting softly. The sound caught her attention and she became abruptly aware of the lingering arousal prodding into her stomach.

She shifted, hooking a leg around his hip, urging him closer by her heel against his back. He made a husky sound of appreciation, thigh and hipbone pressing hard against her as he rocked with her in matching rhythm.

It was like the tide rising and falling with the turns of the moon. She came close to the edge again and again, only to be denied that final fall over the brink. Instead, she soared higher and higher still, tension inside coiling agonizingly tight. She could feel everything so vividly, focusing on the exquisite man above her- the steady rise and fall of his hips, the sweat beading against his brow, the drumming of his heart, the gentle hand touching her.

He trailed his lips down her jaw and chin, pausing to suck at her racing pulse. She gasped and buried her hands in his hair, clutching his head to hold him to her. The heel of his hand pressed hard against her; she cried out, arching against him and she surrendered. She broke apart, shattering into a million different pieces, as if trying to reach the stars above. She felt him jerk and strain against her, and knew he was following after.

Her eyes were squeezed shut as she felt his lips pressed to her temple, calloused fingers brushing back her sweat-damp curls. The weight of him shifted to lay beside her, an arm draping over her stomach. She sighed, snuggling closer to him. "Luke…that was…"

"Yeah," he laughed softly, glancing ruefully at the damp stain in his pants, "Jeez, this hasn't happened to me since I was twelve. I should go change."

He moved to get up but she held on tightly. Lucas glanced down at her, confused, as she clung to him, wrapping herself around him in efforts to keep him with her. He sank back down next to her, slipping his arms around her. He could feel her shaking and when she buried her face in his chest, he felt the dampness of the tears that began to fall.

He panicked.

"Peyton. Peyton, honey, talk to me. What's wrong? Is this too soon? Did I go too fast?"

She shook her head, hands tightening into fists as she clutched at his shirt. God, she didn't want to him to go anywhere- never to leave her, never to leave her alone again. At the same time, she never, ever wanted him to know…to know…

"…Luke…there's something I have to tell you…"


	13. Chapter 13: Don't Confess

**Sound of Her Voice**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Thirteen: Don't Confess**

The first thing Peyton came across after coming into the Scott/Roe household was scatterings of newspaper and wrapping. Sitting Indian-style among them was Lucas, scowling irritably at a set of directions on his lap, assorted scattered pieces of what looked to be a baby swing all around him.

"Luke?"

Lucas spared her barely a glance before he returned to glaring at the paper, then the pieces, and then back to the page again. She watched amusedly and as she drew closer, she realized the current object of his irritation was written in something definitely not English.

"Lucas, what language are those directions in?"

"Russian."

"Can you speak Russian?"

"Not a word."

"Okay…just out of curiosity, did you think that staring at it for a prolonged amount of time would magically help you read the language?"

Lucas leveled a glare in her direction. "Don't be a smartass."

"Ouch. You must really be in a bad mood. I was just teasing."

His face softened apologetically, and he sighed. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have said that. I'm just frustrated."

"I can see that," she commented dryly, leaning down to lightly brush her lips against his cheek before withdrawing, hands on her hips. "I went through all the trouble of coming to see you and this is the thanks I get? I even brought you a gift."

He quirked an eyebrow in inquiry. "A gift?"

"Yep." She grinned broadly, holding up in her hand the bag with said present.

Lucas stared.

"Luke?"

He stared some more.

"Luuuucccasssss!"

"Peyton, that's a fish."

"I know it's a fish. It's your fish."

"Peyt…what would possess you to get me a fish?"

She frowned. "What, you don't like it?"

"It's not that…it's just…it's a fish…"

"I think we've established that fact," she replied sardonically.

He glared. "Peyton," he growled in warning, irritated with the flippant reply.

"Luke," she mimicked, her own annoyance evident in her expression.

"I'm sorry," he apologized once more, tiredly rubbing his temples as he sighed. "I'm just tired, I guess."

She reached out and gently brushed her hand against his brow, smoothing away the lines of tension creased there by his perpetual frown. He released a pent-up sigh, allowing his face to relax as he leaned into the touch.

"Luke, talk to me."

Lucas responded to the quiet, insistent tone, leaning his head against her hand as he began to speak, "I got a letter from Dan this morning."

"Well, that could explain the dark mood."

He nodded, continuing on, "Yeah. To make things worse, my mom found it this morning. She brought in the laundry- there's plenty of your stuff, by the way. She put in it a drawer for you. Anyway, she just went kind of quiet. She hasn't really talked to me all day."

Peyton winced, "Yikes."

"Yeah," he groaned, rubbing a hand over his face, "I swear that man will be the death of me."

"Not on my watch. I'd like to keep you around for a while." Watching his back straight and rigid; every part of him radiating tension, she laid her hands upon his shoulders, pushing him back gently to rest against her legs. He complied, grateful for the support, allowing his body to relax as he closed his eyes.

"Hey, Luke?"

"Hmm?"

"Your mom mentioned us?"

"Yes." he turned back to his companion with a puzzled frown. "Why do you sound so surprised?"

"I don't know…did she seem mad or weird?"

"No, why?"

She released an exasperated sigh, pressing her forehead against the back of his shoulder as she wondered once more at her boyfriend's profound maturity but perpetual naiveté. Such a paradox in a man nearly twenty years old never failed to astound her. "Dude," she muttered, her words muffled by the fabric of his shirt, "You are too cute sometimes."

His forehead furrowed, glancing back perplexedly. "Peyton…did you just call me cute?"

She grinned slyly. "Maybe I did," she replied as she leaned closer to the warm, muscular length of his back. "You have a problem with that?"

He growled, reaching back and burying his hand in her curls to pull her head around, their lips only inches apart as he whispered. "Kids, pets, hell, even that fish," he gestured toward the bag lying on the floor beside her, "qualify a lot more for 'cute' than I do. I am _not_ cute." And with that, he crushed his lips over hers.

From first contact, Peyton knew the kiss would be explosive, but nothing could have prepared her for the tidal wave of pleasure that rolled over her as Lucas's tongue skimmed roughly over her lips, entering without pretense to tease her, torment her, tantalize her, simultaneously tender yet demanding, staking a claim but waiting for acceptance. She could do nothing but accept, her hands fumblingly clutching at his back as she grappled for some handhold, some kind of anchor in the sudden tempest of desire.

It was the kind of kiss that sharpened the ache inside, the kind of ache no man had made her feel in a long time, the kind of ache that could easily be stoked into a hunger. Wanting, scintillating sexual hunger, the kind of lust she had no defense against, lust that ripped and tormented, satisfied and still left aching. That hunger was dangerous; that hunger threatened to overwhelm her at any given time. The very thought unnerved her.

His hands were everywhere, stroking her back, her shoulders and arms, her hair, her hips and breasts, downward to her thighs in long, teasing caresses. She moaned, oblivious to the cardboard box digging into her back as he pressed into her, even more still as they parted and she panted for breath, distracted by Lucas's hot breath against her cheek, the talented tongue swathing a trail down her jaw line, the lips nipping at her chin.

Finally…finally after Peyton's world had been jilted completely off-kilter, her body reduced to a trembling, wanting mass of molten heat ready to melt from sheer desire at the slightest touch, he withdrew.

His eyes were dark and disoriented as he ran his fingers through his hair, his face twisting into a bemused expression that endearingly complimented the mortified blush blanketing his complexion, as if confused at his own sudden burst of passion. She couldn't help but feel a small pang of amusement, grateful for the small distraction taking her attention away from the wet heat stirring between her legs.

"Maybe cute isn't so much appropriate as adorable," she said softly, teasingly, her lips stretching into a soft, lazy smile.

He returned the smile, reaching out to briefly touch her cheek. "You're unbelievable, you know that? Not to mention a distraction," he paused, his brow furrowing, "What were we talking about?"

_So much for changing the mood_, Peyton thought sourly,_ but distraction or not, we need to talk about this. _"Whether or not your mom seems upset about us sharing a bed in her house."

Lucas's smile faded. "So that's what you were hinting at." He sighed. "I dunno…"

She squeezed his shoulder. "So what did you tell her?"

He stiffened under her touch, "What could I tell her?" he shot back bitterly, "It's not like we're having sex under her roof. We'd have to be something other than this quasi-just friends shit."

She blanched, dropping his hand as he jerked back to put some distance between the two of them. "I know you're upset, Lucas, but stop taking it out on me. I won't put up with that kind of bullshit. I might be a lot of things for you, but I won't be your whipping boy."

His face melted into a contrite look, and he dropping his head to his hands, stifling a frustrated groan as his shoulders visibly slumped. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, sweetheart." A strangled sound, somewhere between a groan and a laugh, escaped his throat. "Haley and my mom used to get on me for this while you were gone. Letting my temper get away with me. Keith always said a real man knew when to be gentle and when to be firm, but never cruel. I haven't been living up to that."

"No," Peyton said, eyeing him thoughtfully, "You're human…you don't have to apologize. You're more than allowed to be frustrated, with what I've been putting you through lately." She closed some of the distance between them, smoothing her hand through his unruly hair. "Now that we've established the fact that you're like the rest of us, maybe you can finish telling me about your mom."

"Right. I told her…I told her what it was. That we're complicated and we're taking it slow. That I'm waiting for you."

She smiled softly, her fingers almost unconsciously still combing through dirty blonde hair. Lucas leaned into the touch with a quiet sigh. "How can you still be so good to me?"

He looked up at her with warm eyes, "Because you're worth it. You deserve everything I can give you."

She looked down, both shamefully and bashfully, and he cupped her chin, tilting her head back up to meet his eyes. "You know something. I crushed on you for so many years. My mom said one day that she was glad to see me smiling again, and she asked me about it. I told her that I had met someone special, someone special to me. She was glad for me."

His lips curled into a grin. "It should always be like that, Peyton. We should always be able to do what we can to be happy."

Peyton knelt beside him, brushing back fallen strands of hair in his eyes and leaning in to press a light kiss to his temple. "Hmm, maybe we can, maybe we can't. It just depends on how you live."

He nodded. "Mmm…"

She smiled wryly. "By the way, the fish is for Michael. Not you."

He pouted playfully. "I suppose it's the thought that counts," he stared at her for a moment, expression slowly growing serious once more, "You know we need to talk."

She bit her lips and hesitantly nodded. "I know."

"You said yesterday you had something to tell me, Peyton."

She nodded again. "I do." She reached out, taking his hand. "Let's go to your room. This might take a while."


	14. Chapter 14: Come Clean

**Sound of Her Voice**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Fourteen: Come Clean**

The low thrumming of the appliances was the only sound to accompany Lucas that night in the kitchens as he worked through a familiar routine of cleaning up for closing time; going over the inventory in the pantries and refrigerator, wiping down the counters, and finally, washing the dishes. He rolled up his sleeves as the sink filled, relieved the load of dirty dishes was not so large this day since the afternoon crowd in the café had been smaller than normal. Working up lather between his hands, he picked up the rough cloth and began to vigorously scour the first pot. As he fell into a familiar rhythm, he could not help his mind wandering as he worked.

"_Something happened last semester when I was at school."_

Since the last time they had seen each other nearly a week before, Peyton came at once and foremost to mind among his idle thoughts. He could not help himself. It wasn't as if she hadn't been on his thoughts 24/7 before, anyway. The infamous night, the first time he had touched her in the way he had…

"_My roommate dragged me to this party…"_

…the next day, when she had finally confessed what was holding her back from being with him.

"_There was a guy."_

She had been avoiding him and after numerous attempts to call her, he finally gave in and gave her space. Even so, Peyton Sawyer haunted him.

She was a mystery, a puzzle, and yet simultaneously, Lucas knew so much about her. That she was witty and sharp at first sight, shy on occasion, an intense and passionate individual beneath the surface, a kind and considerate friend, a beautiful soul. But the more he thought about it, the more he shrank back from the idea of seeking more from Peyton than just friendship- or whatever it was they had now. The complications made his head spin. But still…but still…there was something about her that kept drawing him back. If only he could figure out his next step…

"Lucas Scott! It's nearly eleven! Don't tell me you're still working!"

The familiar shrill scream resounded startlingly through the quiet kitchen, its origin erupting a moment later from the lobby through the swinging doors to emerge in the form of Haley James Scott.

He grinned unabashedly as she fixed him with a stern gaze that turned brown eyes to ice, placing her hands on her hips as she stared him down. "You better have a good explanation for working this late, Lucas."

Drying his hands, Lucas casually leaned back against the counter. "Back again, Hales? Feeling nostalgic?"

Haley huffed and waved her hand dismissively. "Someone has to make sure you're still alive. Why are you here so late?"

"Tom's out sick tonight. Ben asked me if I would work an extra shift and close up tonight."

She arched an eyebrow skeptically. "Uh-huh. What is it this time?"

"Another hangover." He was proud of the fact that he kept his face neutrally blank at the memory of the young grad student stumbling and weaving his way that morning up the stairs to his apartment.

"That figures. What would your mom say if she knew you were working extra hours?"

He frowned then. "She wasn't going to find out, Hales. And you're not going to tell her."

"It's her café, Lucas, and she worries about you as much as I do-"

"Enough! Please, Haley, I'm just doing Ben a favor. I wasn't overworking myself. Honest."

Haley's face softened, her eyes warming with concern. "You sure?"

"Positive."

"Alright." She smiled softly.

"_He attacked me. And I couldn't fight him off."_

--

That night, the moon rose above in the heavens, and the brilliant light streaming down towards earth, washing over them in its pallid glow. They were at the Rivercourt, quietly taking their time together. She was sitting on the bleachers, he lazily stretched out beside her, eyes closed, breathing deep and slow. They were strangely content in each other's presence, with no need to speak.

It had been a long time since she had the chance to just enjoy his company- glad to spend time with him again. In response to her thoughts, she reached out, gently touching his head, smoothing back his hair. The caress and the low, melodious hum she had been keeping up lulled him into a drowsy state. His lips stretched into a lazy smile, shifting his head over to look up at her.

"I recognize that from somewhere." Nathan muttered languidly.

Peyton nodded, her fingers moving downward to trace the contour of his cheekbone- the man who had once been her lover, now the big brother she had never had. "I'm surprised you remember."

"Where's it from?"

"Hmm…my mom used to sing me to sleep with it."

"Mmm, yeah." With a slight smile, he stretched backward, the languid motion resembling the arching back of a feline. "You used to hum it to me, when I was stressed over my dad." He paused. "Back in the beginning, when things were still good."

She nodded in agreement and he blinked at her, his eyes inquisitive. "Will you sing it for me?"

"Doesn't Haley sing for you?"

He shrugged. "Used to." He winced. "Not so much anymore."

She nodded, deciding not to push the subject. "…still, Nathan, my voice isn't all that good…"

"Peyton," He rolled over onto his stomach. "Please?"

She gave in, starting with a soft hum, gradually climbing upward through the octaves as the song became to ascend in complexity, and each note rang through beautiful and clear as the chiming of bells. The melody was familiar, wrapping around him like a warm embrace he had always longed for, tangible in the air around him, something as wanted and welcomed as a lover's touch. Closing her eyes, she found herself reaching half-consciously into her jeans' pocket just to brush her fingers against the tiny brass key she housed there.

_Peyton stretched languidly, arching her back to relieve some of the kinks gathered from her awkward position. "Now that that's taken care of, I'm going to set things up for this guy."_

_Lucas's eyes followed her as she picked up the fish bag, something resembling a carnival souvenir and another plastic bag containing what seemed to be a bowl and fish food. She made her way into the kitchen as he decided to follow him. "Peyton? May I ask again what possessed you to buy a fish?"_

_She smiled as she proceeded to set things up for the habitat of Michael's new red-tailed aquaria friend. "Truth? When I was like three, I got bit by this dog. So I had a fear of them for the longest time. And my mom was allergic to cats, so the pet we settled on was fish. After my mom died, Brooke and I took it up. We always kept one until high school started. Ala, the fish, whose name is A.L.E.X. IX, by the way."_

"_Alex the ninth?"_

"_Nope. A.L.E.X. It's his initials."_

"_Dare I even ask?"_

"_Sure. He's the ninth of his line, the latest Arthur Leopold Elliot Xavier Scott." She frowned suddenly in thought. "Or is it the first, since the others were Sawyer-Davises?"_

"…_."_

"_Luke?"_

"_I knew I shouldn't have asked."_

_Peyton pouted, folding her arms across her chest as she glowered petulantly at him. "Just what do you mean by that?"_

"_The fact that you never cease to amaze me."_

"_In a good or bad way?"_

"_I won't comment on that." He then proceeded to make his way out of the kitchen, taking her attention away from A.L.E.X. as she tilted her head curiously in his direction. "Where are you going?"_

"_To call the manufacturer of that swing. Unless you can suddenly speak Russian?"_

"'_Fraid not."_

"_Didn't think so."_

"_Can it wait a few minutes? I want to show you how to take care of Alex."_

"_Changing its name so soon?"_

_She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "It's easier to say," she countered, not ready to admit that she had realized he was right, "So come on."_

"_Cannot. Will not. I have no time to take care of a fish."_

_She opened his mouth to protest, and then faltered, thinking. Meanwhile, Lucas bent over the many pieces that were supposed to be Keith Michael's new swing, sparing her a pensive glance as he skimmed over the paper containing the directions in hopes of finding something resembling a phone number. He paused, humming thoughtfully to himself. "I think I have a solution."_

_He fished something from his pocket with his free hands and tossed it toward her, the light catching off the object just enough to show it to be small and metallic. Peyton caught it easily, staring stunned and speechless at the tiny brass key resting in her palm. "Luke?"_

_His back to her, he nonchalantly shrugged as he picked up the phone. "Just for the fish," he mumbled softly._

_She swallowed, staring first at the man, then at the key, and back to the man. She didn't dare to let her thoughts go any further. "Right. For the fish."_

"What's going on in your head, Sawyer?"

Nathan's question broke through her reflections, as her singing had died out long ago the further she fell into thought. When she took a while to answer, he pressed again. "C'mon, you know you can tell me anything."

Peyton heaved out a deep breath, "Okay. I've been holding this in for a really long time, Nate, and I just have to get it out," a beat of silence, "I'm madly in love with Haley. I'm planning on getting a sex change so she'll fall for me, we'll get married and we'll have lots of curly-haired, musical babies."

Nathan's expression was priceless.

Peyton smirked. She reached out and placed her fingers under his chin, closing his mouth- fallen open in his incredulity. "Gotcha."

He glared, shoving her away as she broke into laughter. "You're evil, Sawyer. I swear to God, you're like devil spawn."

"I'll take that up with Ellie the next time I see her." She pointed skyward. "Might me a while, though." It was strange, that she could now talk about Ellie's death without the familiar twinge of pain. After all, she harbored so many good memories of her birth mother, she supposed it made the heartache that much easier.

He rolled his eyes, drawing himself up to sit beside her. "Whatever. Nice try, though."

She grimaced despite the warmth of his words, turning her head to hide her face in the collar of his shirt. Nathan chuckled at the rather childish display, "Talk to me, Sawyer," he persisted.

She sighed, nestling further into the polo material of his shoulder. "Nathan, if something happened…something that changed me- not necessarily in good ways- would you think differently of me?"

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, resting his chin atop of her head. "Never, Sawyer. Never."

"So…now that we're sharing, what's wrong?"

He arched an eyebrow. "You gave me nothing."

"Nate."

He sighed. "Haley's pregnant. I'm gonna be a dad."

"_This time…you weren't there to save me."_


	15. Chapter 15: Reawakening Senses

**Sound of Her Voice**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Fifteen: Reawakening Senses**

Many of the nights she slept by his side were sleepless ones for Lucas. He was not plagued with insomnia, nor haunted by old memories or nightmares. He merely could not bring himself to sleep.

Instead, he chose to focus on her while she rested peacefully in her slumber.

In the nights too dark for him to make out her peaceful face, he would stay awake staring at the ceiling, focused on the soft, steady sound of her breathing.

There were times when she talked in her sleep, silly, nonsense words that caused him to smile, filing them away for future teasing. No time soon, of course, lest she think his midnight habits too odd and try to stop him.

He supposed this habit of his was a little strange, but he would trade nothing in the world for those few, precious stolen moments as he listened to the quiet of the night, the low chirping of the crickets outside his window, as she rested safe and warm and loved in his embrace.

--

It was nearly five by the time Lucas dragged his exhausted body back to his house. He had done as Haley asked, locking up and leaving the café by midnight, but his mind was far away, his heart heavy, and he made his way to the Rivercourt instead of home. He spent the next four hours brooding, shooting baskets, brooding some more, then tossing his ball around again for hours at end. He knew he should have paid heed to the delicacy of his heart, but he ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head, desperate to drown out the grief and confusion and pain inside. Really, his heart was agonizingly fragile in more ways than one.

He shut the door to his room, clumsily kicked off his Converse and collapsed onto his bed. He groaned and buried his head in the pillow, praying to pass out quickly if only for the sake of escaping his inner torment. He heard the sound of his door creaking open and he moaned with frustration, smothering the sound into his pillowcase. This early, his visitor could only be one of three people: his mother, Peyton, or Haley. None of which were people he wanted to see at the moment.

"Lucas Eugene!"

His mother. Just his luck.

He wearily rolled over to face her, staring blankly at the doorway. She was standing there with her hands on her hips, clearly not pleased with him. "Where have you been? I realize you're an adult now, but you could have at least called. I was worried sick."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you."

She took in his ragged appearance, the look of defeat in his eyes and her expression softened with concern over what could be bothering her eldest so badly. "Where were you? Haley called and said you left the café hours ago."

He looked away. "I was at the Rivercourt."

Karen gave him a dubious look. "You were at the court for five hours?"

He shrugged. "I just didn't want to have to think."

Her eyes carried around the room, inadvertently landing on the unopened letter resting on his bureau. Her breath caught, her eyes closing a bit wearily and she sighed heavily. "Are you going to open it?"

He looked emotionlessly toward Dan's letter. "I don't know. Do you want me to?"

"It's your choice, Lucas."

"I know. Doesn't make it easier, though."

She nodded, turning back toward him. "Somehow, I don't think that's the only thing bothering you. What's going on, honey?"

"Peyton."

Of course. "What happened?"

He closed his eyes. "She finally told me what's going on," frowning, he clarified, "Why she's having trouble with the idea of us. Then, she took off before I could say anything."

"How long ago?"

"…a week…"

"Oh, Luke," she sat down on the bed beside him, "Have you tried to talk to her?"

He grunted irritably, "Plenty. She wouldn't pick up her phone and she was never at the house when I went by, so I gave up after a couple of days." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I understand she went through a tough time, and I'd give anything to take it back for her, but I don't know what to do anymore. I've done everything I can to let her know she can trust me again, that I can keep her safe and I won't ever hurt her. But every time she opens up a little, she pushes me back out so fast I feel like I'm getting whiplash…" he stopped for a moment, his next words coming out as little more than a morose whisper, "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

"Luke, sweetie, I know it's seeming hopeless now, but there's something I definitely know to be true. If it's really love, it'll always find a way in the end. What I had with Keith…I didn't have much time, but I had it all the same, before it was too late. No matter how I pushed him away, he still loved me all along." She gently rested a hand against his back. "I see that same kind of connection between you and Peyton. It's a one of a lifetime love you share with that girl. Don't give up yet, Lucas Scott. I raised you better than that."

He smiled. "Thanks, Mom."

She leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Anytime, sweetie."

As she quietly left the room, Lucas lay back down, sighing softly as he relaxed against the mattress. Closing his eyes and sinking into the softness of his bed, he finally let himself sleep.

--

There was something unique about the scent of each person, something alluring and irresistible to the one who loves them the most, who wants them close. She remembered the scent of him when he held her close, a memory that teased the senses nearly as vividly as the recalled feel of his body, his touch, or his warmth.

It had been a clear, rich smell, the lingering traces of his soap and the faint scent of the cologne she had once bought him, very masculine and uniquely Lucas.

After the summer they had grown so close, they had still made it a point to spend time together, if under Brooke's radar. Summer had faded into autumn, breaking over into winter. She remembered the cold nights they would walk together along the beach, the air around them taking on a more frigid bite than they had expected, and he would wrap his jacket around her shoulders, and the coat would smell like him, wrapping around her in warmth as comforting as his embrace.

The secret she would take to her grave was tucked away in the very back of her closet, the old denim jacket, a favorite of Lucas's, that he had insisted she keep with her back then. The fact that she wore the coat on the nightly walks she still took without him was something she would never tell him, ignoring that it was the sultry heat of summer, in the late hours she paused at the same place again and again, a familiar vantage point, hidden in the shadows near his house.

She would never tell.

--

"So, how far along are you?"

Haley's head whipped around at Peyton's question, eyes wide with surprise. "What…how…" realization set in, "You've been talking to Nathan?"

"Yeah." Peyton gave her a sheepish smile. "I kind of bullied him until he told me what was bothering him."

Haley sighed, pressing her hand to her temple. "At least he's talking to someone."

Peyton frowned. "Yeah. He mentioned that. What's up, Hales?"

Haley motioned to her to sit down as she did the same, both making themselves comfortable on the couch. "I'm about six weeks. But he's barely reacted. I told him and he just got quiet. He avoids the subject when I try to bring it up, or he just shuts down. I don't know how to get through to him."

"I think he's scared."

Haley looked at her, surprised, and Peyton continued. "He didn't say much, but I could see it. It was this look he used to get when Dan was riding him hard and he'd slipped up somehow. He tried to cover it up with his usual bullshit, but for just a second, if you looked for it, you knew he was terrified."

Haley's mouth made an "o" of realization. "God, you're absolutely right. I've always been able to read him well, but I've been so caught up in this, I didn't look deep enough. For all we know, this probably comes back to that asshole of a man."

Peyton nodded. "It's kinda like that for Luke. Except he's eager to be a dad as soon as he's ready. He's determined to be everything Dan's not."

Haley eyed her thoughtfully. "Speaking of Luke…you've both been MIA for days. And lately, it always comes back to each other. So come on, Peyton, tell me what's going on."

"…I told him something, something big, and then I practically ran from him," she looked up into Haley's understanding eyes, and somehow found the courage to keep going, "About four months ago, I went with friends to this frat party. I didn't mean to stay long, but I got up in things and I had too much to drink. Things are a little hazy 'cause of that, but I remember a lot. I was walking down the hall when someone grabbed my arm and pulled me into one of the bedrooms. It was fast- I was on the bed, he was on top of me, putting his hand over my mouth and pulling at my belt before I could even think."

Haley, who had become frozen with incredulous shock since her friend started her confession, began to react, finally reacted and reached across the table to take Peyton's hand. "Peyton, did he-"

Peyton cut her off before she could finish, before she could give voice to what they both feared. "He didn't get that far. Travis got to him, had the RA call 911 and stayed with me until campus security arrived."

"Travis?"

"Yeah. He's a graduate student. He's the one who saved the day." She smiled wryly. "He's also a student counselor."

"Oh," Haley regarded her thoughtfully, "You've been talking to him?"

"Yeah," Peyton sighed, letting her head fall back, "We talked. About Ellie, my mom, the shooting, Brooke…Lucas…everything but what happened."

"Peyton."

Peyton sighed at the gentle reprimand in Haley's voice. "I know. I just…I couldn't."

The brunette nodded. "So where does this leave you and Luke?"

She swallowed hard. "He's too good for me, Haley."

Haley's mouth dropped open. "Excuse me?"

Peyton squirmed uncomfortably, but like it had been with Lucas, she knew it was time for honesty. "I'm not good enough for him. He deserves someone who's not so damaged. Who doesn't have so much baggage." She closed her eyes against the threat of tears. "He deserves someone clean."

Haley's face fell with sad realization. "Oh, Peyton."

The blonde bit her lip, struggling to hold back a sob. "I don't want to lose him, Hales, but I don't have a right to keep him either."

Haley reached over, wrapping her arms around the other woman. Peyton relaxed into the embrace, crying softly as she clung desperately to the mother-to-be. "Peyton," a slender hand brushed through her curls, "You have every right in the world, honey, even if you don't believe it."

--

It took everything in her to go see him that night.

He was sitting on his bed, his head cradled in his hand, an open letter resting in his other. She wasn't sure what was disturbing her more- the defeat so evident in his stance, or the fact that he was nearly completely in the dark. The only illumination in the room was streaming through the cracked door, letting in a sliver of light from the hallway.

"Lucas?" her voice was tentative, neither sure how to reach him, nor how he would react to seeing her, "Luke, talk to me."

He finally looked up and even unable to see his eyes, she would feel the harshness of his gaze. "Peyton," he said hoarsely, "Who's Ian Banks?"

And just like that, her heart plummeted all over again.


	16. Chapter 16: Desperate Measures

**Sound of Her Voice**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Sixteen: Desperate Measures**

"_Peyton."_

The sound of her name, a soft caress, a whisper in his voice.

"_Peyton."_

It had to be a whisper of the wind.

"_Peyton…"_

How could he put such strength of emotion in one simple syllable?

"_Peyton…"_

A quiet plea.

"_Peyton…please." _

So much longing in his voice…

"_Peyton!"_

So much anger now…

"_Peyton."_

His voice sounds so broken, so full of pain…

"_Peyton, answer me, please."_

It's painful, nearly unbearable, to ignore him.

"_Peyton…"_

She rolls over in the bed, turning her back to him. "Go away, Luke."

She can still feel his presence. He always was stubborn.

But his silence breaks her heart.

--

"How do you know that name?"

He stared at her, face eerily expressionless. "Dan. His letter was the reports from what happened to you in Baltimore. An Ian Banks was transferred to the same prison last month, and got sent back north after his conviction. Apparently, he liked to brag, and my bastard of an old man recognized one of the names." He clenched his fist, the letter balling up as well, "Answer me. Who is he?"

Peyton looked away, "Why? It looks like you already know."

"Yeah," he replied blankly, eyes boring into her, "I guess I do." He stood up, slowly approaching her. On the way, he turned on his bedside lamp, pouring a sudden illumination to the room. His eyes, however, were still shadowed. "Do you hate me? Is that it? Because I wasn't there? Because I couldn't save you this time?"

Her eyes still adjusting to the light, Peyton jumped with shock. "What? God, no, Luke! How could you think I hate you?"

"What else could it be? You said-"

"_This time, you weren't there to save me."_

"Forget what I said, Luke. I didn't mean it."

"You won't give me the time of day, Peyton! I've told you, again and again, that you have me, that I want to be there for you. I'm trying, so hard, but no matter what I do, you won't let me in. Do you just not want to be with me? If that's it, just tell me."

"I want to be with you, Lucas. But I can't!"

"Why?! What the hell is holding you back, Peyton?! Dammit, no more secrets. Just tell me!"

"I gave up, Lucas!" she let out a choked sob, "I struggled for a while. But he was strong, so strong, and I just stopped fighting. If Travis hadn't been there, I would have just let it happen," she rolled her eyes skyward, letting out a bitter, mirthless laugh, "All I can remember thinking in the hospital afterward was 'I want Lucas. I wish Lucas was here.' Then it settled in, and it turned into, 'Lucas can't be here. I can't let Lucas see me like this.'"

"Peyton…"

She held up a hand to cut him off. "No. Don't you get it yet? I gave up, Luke. All the times you saved me, giving me back my hope, letting me feel strong, trusting me to keep on going. And the moment you weren't there, I just gave up. Everything you gave me, I just threw away." Still struggling not to cry, she stumbled back when he reached out a hand to her, "You shouldn't be so good to me, Lucas. Not after that!"

"Peyton…" he edged closer, shaking his head and reaching out to firmly hold her wrist when she tried to back away. "Baby…you've got it all wrong. I read the police report, Peyton. You weren't drunk. They found chloral hydrate in your system."

"Chloral what?"

"It's a date rape drug."

Her eyes widened. "Wait…are you saying someone slipped me a mickey?" Those same defeated eyes welled with tears. "No. No, Luke, it wasn't supposed to be like that. I wasn't supposed to be that stupid again. I was so careful after last time."

"I know. You have no idea how proud of I of you for that. You weren't stupid back then- you were sixteen, and you've grown so much since then." He slid his hand down to grasp hers. "Honey, there wasn't anything in your drink. It was injected, Peyt. The police found the syringe in his pocket."

"Ah," the small cry from her lips as she covered her hand with her hand, tears finally breaking through.

He reached out, wiping them away, his voice tender as he whispered resolutely, "It wasn't your fault, Peyton. None of it was your fault."

She fell into his arms, sobbing, burying her head in his chest as her body wracked with both its relief and release. He held her tight, sheltering her as she finally allowed herself to let go.

--

They had settled together in pretty much the first stable place they found- Lucas's computer chair. She sat in his lap, his arms wrapped tightly around her. She had burrowed her face into his chest and Lucas settled his chin against her head, pressing a kiss to her curls.

"Talk to me, baby."

"About what?"

"The things you've been feeling. Tell me about them."

"…I don't feel right in my own skin anymore, Luke. I think about his hands on me and I feel dirty, like I'll never be clean again. When we were together, and I realized you wanted me…something in me resisted, even when I didn't want it to. Like I couldn't be with you because of what he did, like I was soiled or something."

She reached for his hand, his larger palm consequently enveloping hers with careful reassurance. He sighed softly, brushing another kiss against her forehead. "So, does it make you uncomfortable when I touch you?"

She shook her head. "No, that's not what I meant. When you touch me…it's like everything feels right again. I'm safe and I'm warm and I'm loved." She tilted her face up, kissing him softly. "When you touch me, you show how much you love me."

He smiled, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "I do love you, Peyton."

She pressed another kiss to his mouth, slipping out of his arms to stand up. She held her hands out to him, pulling him to his feet as well. "Then show me, Luke."

He deeply inhaled. Slowly let it out. Let his eyes open. Framed her face in his hands. Whispered to her, "Do you trust me?"

"Completely," she did not hesitate for a moment in her response.

"I'm glad." Slowly, gently, with the utmost care he had ever shown anything in his life…he kissed her.

Peyton trembled against him and Lucas's arms encircled her, holding her in a loose embrace she could break away from with ease if she so chose. But it was her who initiated the next kiss, firmer and more insistent than his own.

It was an unpracticed passion she radiated, but one he intended to cultivate, as he splayed his hands against her back to pull her flush against him, responding with a fervor no woman before her had ever managed to invoke in him.

She slowly opened to him, deepening the contact, and she was pliant, warm and utterly alive against him. With gentle coaxing, she was ardent in her reactions as he lifted her to him, her arms linking around his neck and legs draping around his hips.

Breathless, he whispered to her then, settling her weight against him as he crossed the room. "Trust me on this, sweetheart. I'll take care of you."

Her heart warming both at his caring and the familiar words, she shyly nodded against the crook of his neck, peppering chaste kisses against his face. "I know you will."

His eyes followed her movements as she lay out against the bed, her gaze locked on his movements as he removed his wife-beater, unfastening and pulling down his jeans to bare himself down to his underwear, "Are you sure about this?"

"Do you even have to ask?"

He smiled, lowering himself down to her level. "I suppose not," he replied wryly. "Considering you're the one who came on to me." She laughed and he sifted his fingers through her hair, releasing the blinds of her ponytail, allowing the silken mass to tumble haphazardly around her shoulders.

His fingers brushed against the nape of her neck and she shivered, he leaning forward to press a kiss to her collarbone, slowly loosening the buttons of her shirt. Their eyes met once more, Lucas searching for any discomfort at his ministrations.

As he parted the folds of her shirt and pushed the fabric aside, she ran her fingers through the coarse bristle of his hair, drawing him into another kiss, more a soft acknowledgement of what was to come than impassioned.

"Like last time?" the intimacy of his question brushed against her ear and at her slow nod, he was silent.

He let his body do the talking for him.

Lucas, above all things, had always been a gentle lover to her, passionate in his kisses, careful and precise in his caresses, seeking not only to arouse her body but to comfort and soothe any fear her mind still possessed. He kept his hands and lips constantly at work, keeping that same slow, steady pace until she forgot anything and everything but him.

As he released the catch to her bra, he pulled the blankets up in response to her shivers, not sure if they were from his attentions or if she was cold, as he lowered his head to explore her. Teeth scraped gently against her collarbone, Peyton sucking in a quick breath of surprise at the new sensation. His hand stroked her clothed hip, silently reassuring as he continued on, his lips a sweet burn against her skin as he trailed them to her chest.

He delighted in the heightened pitch of her breath, the way she subtly arched her body into his, the way her hands tangled in his hair, nails scraping at his scalp. She whispered his name, her voice thick and hazy, and the moment she rolled her hips against his, his mind almost stopped working all together.

He blinked, nuzzling her neck as he breathes in the sweet scent of her, sharply exhaling as he surrendered not only into his own passion, but hers as well. As if she felt the change, her eyes fluttered open to lock on his and they shared soft smiles as he hooked his fingers into the thin material of her shorts, Peyton's expression clouded but accepting as she allowed him to finally bare her down to nothing.

She was clearly responsive to him, but tense and taut as a bow beneath the press of his body as he slid his hands between her thighs. He nibbled at her shoulder, stroking nimble fingers against her, pressing the warmth of his palm against her inner thigh, subtly urging. She squirmed, obediently letting her legs fall open for him and he gently found the heat of her.

He combed a hand through her hair, guiding her to just let go with encouraging whispers in her ear, wanting badly to see her responses on that beautifully animated face. She whimpered against his neck, digging her fingers into his shoulders as he stroked and caressed, slow, rhythmic thrusts the more her body relaxed to the intrusion, the tantalizing brush of his thumb against her.

She fell apart then and there.

She was trembling violently, clinging to him after he brought her to the pinnacle and beyond. There was a redness against the skin of his shoulder, outlined by the imbedded marks of her teeth and Peyton realized with a start just how hard she had bitten him in an effort to stifle her instinctual cry. She blushed, whispering to him bashfully, "Sorry."

He laughed, leaning down to press sweet kisses to her flushed cheeks. "Don't worry about it. I'll consider it a mark of skill."

She smiled up at him, a slow, lazily sensual curve of her mouth, "You are skilled." Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled his mouth back to hers. Lucas moaned with appreciation as she nibbled on his bottom lip, even more so as she trailed kisses up his neck, catching his earlobe between her teeth.

Her next whisper, however, still managed to startle him. "Make love to me, Luke. Completely this time."


	17. Chapter 17: I'll Be Here

**Sound of Her Voice**

By Alaricnomad

**Chapter Seventeen: I'll Be Here When You Get Back**

The only response he could give was a nonsensical sputter. Peyton watched amusedly as he struggled to speak, mouth opening and closing without sound, looking rather like a gaping fish in her opinion. "You might want to close your mouth, baby."

Slightly embarrassed, he did as suggested, giving her a sheepish look. "Did you just say what I think you said?"

"Hmm-mm."

He blinked once more, still caught off-guard. "Are you sure?"

She sighed, wrapping her arms once more around his neck. "Do you have to keep asking?" She slid a leg around his hip to pull him closer, Lucas's eyes closing with a groan as they pressed together intimately.

"Point taken."

"Luke…"

Peyton's whisper met his ears as he brushed his fingers against her cheek, letting the contact linger for an extended moment. She leaned into his touch, urging his head down toward her to meet him in a gentle kiss. The kiss was simple; a chaste press of lips and Lucas gave a sigh of content, stroking his thumb against her cheek.

He slipped his arm around her waist and she shifted closer, resting a hand against his chest. She could feel his heart pick up in pace and she delighted in it, continuing her subtle exploration as she trailed her fingers down his arms, passed his wrist and met his hands, letting them interlace.

He playfully caught her lower lip between his teeth, earning a soft moan and he smiled. Peyton licked at his lips, earning a growl from her lover as he sought to deepen the kiss, only to be teasingly denied as she drew back. He wouldn't be denied; releasing her hands, he entwined his own through her hair, urgently running his tongue along her lips to seek compliance. She surrendered, giving a moan of appreciation as he kissed her fervently and thoroughly.

She ran her hands beneath the hem of his boxers, urging them off. Lucas obeyed and soon enough, the garment found a new place on the bedroom floor, only with the rest of their clothing.

After releasing himself from the confines of his underwear, Lucas reared back on his knees, drinking in the sight of her all over again. "God, Peyton," he breathed, his voice rough with desire, "You are gorgeous."

She blushed at the familiar compliment and even after all of these weeks they had been building up their intimacy, Peyton still found herself feeling strangely shy when she gave in to the gentle urging of his hands as he guided her to move over him. He whispered to her, that he wanted to see her above him, wanted to see all of her as they made love, to see the radiance of her when she came into her pleasure.

She had to admit herself that there was a feeling of power here, knowing the way she affected him. Lucas was a gentle man, but still just a man…in all his strength, all his pride; she managed to bring this powerful man to his knees time and time again.

The ability was both humbling and invigorating, bringing a heady edge to their lovemaking as he submitted and demanded, gave so selflessly but wanted so greedily, as if he could never get enough. He stared up at her, his hands gentle and delighted as they caressed her, adoration shining from his eyes and her heart melted. He smiled, softly, tenderly, and amazingly, she knew no fear, no hesitation, only the warmth of his love and the urge to be one with him.

She shifted her hips, taking him in, and they both could admit that before that moment, neither had ever felt something so amazing. She returned his smile, leaning down to him. Her hair fell around them like a curtain, the sweet scent lingering amongst those curls enthralling to him. He kissed her softly, their fingers entwining once more, and together they began to move.

--

They lay spooned together, quietly resting as they waited for their bodies to slowly calm in the aftermath of their lovemaking. He rested his chin atop her head, her curls tickling against his nose. His arm was draped across her stomach, his fingers absently tracing circles along her midriff. "You're quiet," she murmured drowsily, eyes closed as she leaned back against his chest, "What's on your mind?"

"Just thinking."

"Whatcha thinking about?"

He sighed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Why didn't you press charges, Peyton?"

Her eyes flew open and she stiffened, but she answered despite her trepidation, no longer wanting to hide from him. "I wanted to forget it ever happened. I didn't even stick around to give my statement to the police. I just left. Travis and all the evidence piled against him was enough to put him away, but I didn't have anything to do with it."

"Is that why you didn't know you were drugged?"

"…yeah…"

He kissed her again. "You know you're safe now, right? He's not getting out for a very long time."

She raised her head to look at him.

"No. You weren't the first, honey. Ian Banks was wanted in a couple states on three assault and battery cases, two rape charges and attempted murder."

Her eyes widened. "Everyone he…are they alright?"

"As for as I know…I bet you anything if they're anywhere was strong as you, they're doing just fine."

She sighed, relief flooding through her body. She smiled, leaning her head back against him. "You're always saving me, you know that?"

His brow furrowed with confusion. "But I didn't-"

She shook her head, cutting him off. "Not that. You've saved me from myself this time around."

He tilted her head up to kiss her. Remembering how empty a person he had been before she returned, he replied softly. "You did the same for me. You saved me from myself."

"Just returning the favor, hero."

--

"Pey-Pey!!"

At the sound of the young voice calling toward her, the source of the noise being the little boy tottering to her. At sixteen months, Michael was walking more steadily, pride and affection swelling up in her as he crossed the short distance between them as fast as his little legs could carry him. She crouched down, opening her arms to him. "Mikey!!"

His chubby face broke out into a smile, gaping teeth and all. She covered his face in kisses, earning giggles as he mimicked her, placing a wet, loudly smacking kiss on her cheek.

"Guess what, little man? I have a surprise for you."

She pulled said surprise from her pocket. "Cookies!!" He took them from her. "T'ank you." He squeezed her tightly, beaming up at her. "My Pey-Pey!!"

She swept his bangs out of his face. "My Michael," she mimicked softly.

"My loves," a tender voice joined in from behind him, Peyton unable to keep the smile from her face as her boyfriend approached them. She stood up, Michael in her arms, and he greeted them both with kisses to the crowns of their heads, then her again with a more thorough salutation to her lips. Unable to resist, Peyton slipped an arm around his neck, pulling him closer to her as he started to deepen the kiss.

"'ey!!" Michael made a protesting sound as he found himself squeezed between them and the couple quickly broke apart, apologizing to him between laughter at the strange predicament they'd caused. The little boy quickly forgave them as he heard that Peyton was planning to take him to the park for the afternoon. His eyes lit up and he bounced around from his place at Peyton's hip. "Park, park!! Swing, swing!!"

Lucas and Peyton looked at each other, sharing smiles as their eyes locked. Lucas leaned back over, kissing her again. "Thanks again for doing this, Peyt. I really hate to lay this one you, but the café's short-staffed…"

She waved her hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. Mikey and I always have a good time. Don't we?" she tweaked the child's nose, and he reached up, wrapping his fingers around hers, nodding enthusiastically in agreement.

Lucas only grinned. "Okay then." He kissed them both again. "Have fun you two. I'll be back at eight." He left, however, reluctantly, and Michael squirmed impatiently in Peyton's embrace. "Need ball."

"Patience, baby. We'll get your ball." Peyton kissed his head, letting him to his feet as he scampered off toward the bedroom he shared with his mother, at least until Lucas decided it was time to move on.

After packing a bag consisting of Michael's ball, fresh diapers, sunscreen, juice and his cookies, the other two went as well, destination the town park. Ten minutes later found them there, and after applying sunscreen to the impatient child, finally setting him free to run to the sandbox, settling herself on a nearby bench. She watched him join a little girl, the two of them seeming to hit it off as they began to peacefully play.

"You look a lot like a mama bear, watching him so close."

Her eyes widened with disbelief, as her gaze flew to the adult that sat herself beside her. "Rachel?" she stuttered out.

The woman turned toward her, brushing red hair out of her face and regarded her with a wry smile. "Peyton Sawyer. Get yourself knocked up?"

Peyton blinked, not sure whether to be caught off-guard or put more at ease at the typical Gattina quip. "Umm, no…he's Karen and Keith's little boy."

Rachel nodded, smiling softly in the children's direction. "Cute. So…" she turned back to the curly-haired blonde, "Long time no see, Sawyer."

"I could say the same to you, Gattina."

"Actually, it's not Gattina anymore," she held up her left hand, complete with diamond-sapphire engagement ring, and a white-gold wedding band.

She had to admit, both rocks looked insanely expensive. "Wow…"

"Yeah. Vin insisted on going all out. Probably why it took us so long to actually tie the knot."

"Vin, huh? Some hotshot Wallstreet stoke-broker or something."

"Nope," Rachel smiled slyly, "Think a little closer to home. Rachel McFadden doesn't have the best ring to it, but what can you do?"

Peyton's mouth dropped. "You…you married Mouth?!"

"Yep."

The blonde's forehead furrowed with confusion. "Where'd the Vin come from?"

The redhead shrugged. "We live in New York, and he's moving up the ranks at the station he works for. His coworkers decided Marvin or Mouth didn't cut it for a future NBA commentator."

"NBA?"

"That's the dream. Anyway, it's Vin to the business, but at home, he's just Mouth, or Daddy for that matter."

Just when Peyton thought she couldn't encounter anymore surprises that day, another bomb hit. "Wait…" her head whipped back around in instinct to check on Michael, taking a second glance at the girl he was playing with. And finally realized how familiar she was. Other than the dark brown quality to her hair, despite the red highlights the sun was bringing out, the toddler was pure Rachel. "She's yours?"

"Yeah."

The other woman looked at her as realization set in, the pieces finally clicking into place. "So you weren't lying last year. She's Cooper's?"

Rachel sighed. "Only biologically. Mouth was really there for me after the accident. After I realized how stupid I'd been, that I almost lost my baby," she cast a wistful look in the children's direction, "I started taking better care of myself, and I decided to keep her. Cooper signed over his paternal rights before she was even born and Mouth really stepped up. He said, flat-out, that he would be there no matter what. I never thought that men like him existed and there he was, ready and wanting to be the father of a baby that wasn't even his," she smiled softly, "Melanie's his pride and joy. She's such a daddy's girl. She absolutely adores him and she's got him wrapped around her little finger."

Peyton smiled. "I'm glad for you."

Rachel genuinely returned the smile. "Thanks, Peyton. Really." The wind blew once more, ruffling her hair, and once more, she tucked the wayward red locks behind her ear, "So what about you? You and Lucas settled down and make broody blonde babies yet?"

Peyton blushed, but before she could respond, a very familiar voice called out behind them, "Okay, hoe, you ready to do some damage to Tree Hill's shopping district. I've got money to burn, time to kill, and we gotta teach that girl of yours the wonders of the credit card."

Rachel shook her head, turning to Brooke sauntering toward them. "Hold your horses, skank. Let me get my daughter first."

Brooke smirked and opened her mouth to retort when her eyes landed on the bench's other occupant. Her eyes widened and she stuttered. "P-Peyton?"

Peyton smiled weakly at the girl she hadn't spoken to in over a year, ever since their argument at Nathan and Haley's second wedding, and before that, when she had confessed to still having feelings for Brooke's then-boyfriend. "Brooke."

"Rachel," the redhead mimicked, earning glares from both. She held her hand up defensively. "Whoa. If looks could kill. I'll just be over there," pointing toward the kids, she scurried off.

An awkward silence fell over the two former friends and clearing her throat, Brooke was the first to speak. "It's been a while."

Peyton nodded, kicking her feet against the grass. "Yeah, it has."

Hesitating for a moment, Brooke sat beside her. She stared at the blonde for a moment and blurted out, "Are you happy?" at Peyton's startled look, "I mean, are you happy with Lucas?"

"Wha-what?" Peyton stared at her incredulously, "You know about that?"

Brooke smiled softly. "Everyone could see it, Peyton. It was only a matter of time."

"So…you're not mad?"

Brooke shook her head. "No…not anymore. Not if he makes you happy."

"He does," Peyton smiled shyly, the distant look in her eyes obviously holding fond memories, "He really does."

Brooke nodded, satisfied. "Good."

The two women sat quietly after that, watching the children playing nearby, and it was then that Peyton knew. That to have the family she had always wanted, it would be with Lucas Scott. It could only be with Lucas.

True love always.

"Hey, Brooke."

"Hmm?"

"Tell me about this guy Luke mentioned."

"Well, his name's Chase Adams…"

--

The lovers stood, thoroughly enwrapped in each other's arms, the dimly lit sky of the approaching dawn behind them. "Do you really have to go?" Lucas murmured against her lips, unable to resist the lure as he kissed her again and again…and again, sure that any moment he would give into temptation and drag her back inside…straight to his bed.

Their three months were up, and the summer had faded into a quickly cooling September. In twelve weeks, their lives had been completely turned upside down, completely changed, and made right again as they finally stopped their three-year dance and found each other. Peyton smiled, hooking her fingers through his belt loop to pull his hips against hers, kissing him hard on the mouth. "Say the word and I'll stay."

Two weeks ago, Peyton had confessed to him that since coming back to Tree Hill, she had never planned to return to Baltimore. She admitted she hadn't been happy there, even before Ian's attack. And then she dropped other news. That she had been given an offer of a music internship in Los Angeles, but she was hesitant to leave without his approval. Despite how much he would miss her, he had wholeheartedly pushed her to accept. Besides, he was starting at UNC around the same time, and he was certain she wouldn't be able to achieve those big dreams of hers in Chapel Hill.

So here they stood, the morning she was supposed to leave, reluctant to let go of one another. Despite himself, Lucas sighed despondently, somehow able to summon up the will to shake his head. "No. You're destined for greatness, Peyton Sawyer. This is just the first step."

She bit her lip worriedly. "Are you sure? I mean, we just started this…maybe-"

He cut her off with another kiss, pressing his lips against her temple as he whispered tenderly into her ear, "Stop worrying so much. I'll be here when you get back. I'll wait, baby. I promise."

She nodded, leaning her head against his shoulder. He just held her, relishing the few moments he had left where she would be solid and corporeal in his arms, not just a memory. "Are you sure you don't want me to drive you to the airport?"

"Nah. I've got another mode of transportation."

As if summoned by thought, said mode of transportation pulled up to the curb, honking on the horn. The window rolled down, revealing a smiling Brooke Davis, much to Lucas's surprise. "Hey, P. Sawyer. Need a lift?"

Peyton smirked. "You bet."

Flabbergasted, Lucas could only stare. "Brooke?"

"Hey Broody. How's it going?"

"Okay…but aren't you two…" he trailed off, his eyes darting from one to another, and back again.

Brooke shrugged. "I've got some business to take care of on the West Coast. It's a long flight." She winked at him. "Plenty of time for us girls to have a much needed talk."

Lucas smiled. That was the best news he'd heard all week.

Wordlessly, after Lucas had loaded her luggage into Brooke's trunk, the two of them came back together, awkwardly facing each other.

"Kiss Michael for me, won't you?" Though she had said her goodbyes to the little boy the night before, she was still missing him already.

"Count on it." He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. Peyton's hug was just as desperate, struggling not to cry as she held him one last time.

He gently cupped her face, kissing away the tears that managed to leak through. "I'll see at Christmas, right?"

"Absolutely. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." She sniffled, wiping at stubborn tears.

"Don't cry," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers, "Just promise you'll come back to me

"No question about it," she responded, leaning up to kiss him. It was a desperate kiss, impassioned and hard. He slid his tongue into her mouth, Peyton immediately opening to him and he eagerly tasted her, needing to imprint every sense of her into his memory. When they pulled back, her next words nearly had him flying in his joy, "I love you, Lucas."

It was the first time she had said the words aloud and his heart soared. Despite his male pride, he felt like crying as well. He reached into his pocket, fingering the jewelry box residing there. "Hey…Peyton?"

"Hmm?"

He hesitated for a moment, looking down into her eyes and then willed his hand to withdraw.

No…no…he wouldn't…not now…they were only nineteen, and she still had dreams to fulfill. He could wait. He would wait forever if he had to. Instead, he repeated her earlier words. "I love you too," he stumbled over the words halfway, blocked by the lump rising up in his throat.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but she placed a finger against his lips, shaking her head. "No goodbyes. Not with us."

Lucas kissed her fingertips and silently nodded, in full agreement. No goodbyes. Not with them. Only new beginnings.

With all the reluctance in the world, she slowly slipped out of his arms. She climbed into Brooke's car and through the window, their eyes locked, staying that way until they disappeared into the distance, out of sight.


	18. Epilogue: I'm Gonna Love You Forever

**Sound of Her Voice**

By Alaricnomad

**Epilogue: I'm Gonna Love You Forever**

Lucas Scott awoke with an unusual sense of lethargy, hours later than his normal seven a.m. wake-up call. Deciding not to disrupt such a good thing as a chance to be lazy he lounged back in the bed for a few moments, stretching his arms above his head as he reveled in the sensation of cool sheets sliding against the bare skin of his torso. Amber light from the mid-morning sun streamed in through the windows, bathing him in gentle warmth that did nothing to dismiss his languid feeling, added to by the tepid air that was wafting in through the open window.

Something about the soft breeze stirred him as he arched his back with an audible cracking sound. He gave a low grunt as he was relieved of the kinks in his sore muscles. He sat up on the edge of the bed, scrubbing a hand through his disheveled hair as he inhaled deeply, taking in the rich, earthen scent of summer.

He rose to his feet, rearranged his bedclothes so that they showed some semblance of order and padded down the hall to the bathroom. He showered, the fierce spray of the skin-scalding water enough to further dismiss the hazy fog lingering from sleep. Afterwards, he moved through his morning routine. He shaved, hesitating for a moment at his closet before pulling out a blue button-down he knew Peyton liked on him, and finally stood before the mirror on his vanity, attacking his mess of hair with a comb.

As he worked at the disobedient mane his eyes caught sight of the pictures tucked into the side of the mirror, and he could not help himself as his lips quirked into a small smile. One photograph was Peyton, Michael and him, on an afternoon from that infamous summer. Peyton had been beautiful as ever in a leaf-green sundress, rays of sunlight dancing among the golden curls tumbling around her shoulders. Michael had been next to her on Lucas's knee, brown eyes staring uncomprehendingly at the camera but smiling good-naturedly all the same. He himself had been beside them both, white t-shirt clean and crisp against skin that had tanned to a golden-brown from long hours under the summer sun, his arms around Peyton as she leaned into him.

The photograph directly beneath it was of himself and Peyton, the two of them smiling brightly, arms around each other's shoulders as they leaned haphazardly against one another. This had been taken on the evening of Peyton's seventeenth birthday, Lucas's gift, a thick volume of abstract paintings tucked under her arm, and he knew the rare vinyl he had gotten her was resting somewhere nearby. He had been nervous about the presents, despite all he had knew about Peyton's interests, but she was delighted. The brilliant smile and kiss on the cheek he received afterward were more than enough compensation for his indecision and apprehension.

She still made him jumpy and nervous; still made him ache for the simplest contact, something he had missed desperately, among so many other things, in the three years since she had left for Los Angeles. Peyton Sawyer had thrown his world upside down and inside out, and he would be blatantly lying if he said he did not love every moment of it.

He shook his head, still unable and unwilling to dismiss the smile on his face, and he gave the comb a final swipe through his hair, straightened his collar, and headed down the hall. Coming into the kitchen, he found his mother and Keith Michael already awake. Karen greeted him pleasantly, but his brother glared at him irritably. Taken aback by the sudden animosity, Lucas arched an eyebrow. "What?"

"Why'd you sleep so late? You took forever, and I wanna see Peyton!!"

Lucas's eyes met those of his mother and Karen gave him a smile. "He's been up since five."

Hearing the piece of news, Lucas couldn't help his own smile. He sat down, quietly chuckling, much to Michael's indignation as the boy crossed his arms across his chest, pouting at his brother. "Sorry, little man. Peyton's flight doesn't come in until noon." He checked his watch, "It's only nine." Watching his brother's crestfallen expression, Lucas compromised, "Tell you what. We'll have breakfast and then we'll go to the florist. You wanted to get her flowers, didn't you?"

Michael's eyes lit back up and Lucas knew it was a job well-done on his big brother scale.

And standing at the airport three hours later, nervously shuffling his feet with a bouquet of lilies in his hand, Lucas watched the woman he loved walking toward them, beautiful as ever with a delighted smile to greet them both. Having only seen each other a total of twelve times over the last three years, his apprehension was understandable, he supposed.

But when she dropped her bag, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull his mouth down to hers, whispering between kisses how much she loved, how much she had missed him, Lucas realized he had absolutely nothing to worry about.

The love of his life had finally come back to him.

--

The move was permanent. Her decision to leave LA had been long-time coming, wanting to first gather the knowledge and experience in the music industry she would need to forge her way out on her own. And back in Tree Hill, she would be starting her own label.

He wasn't sure who was more excited. Himself, Peyton, or his little brother. It didn't matter, really.

Peyton was home.

--

"Michael?"

Michael looked up from where he had been coloring at the kitchen table, casting a curious look in Peyton's direction. Said blonde was at the counter, making sandwiches for lunch. She tilted her head toward the pitcher of lemonade on the table beside him. "It's gotta be hot in that garage. Would you mind taking your brother a glass?"

Michael grinned up at her, setting down his crayons and hopping out of his chair. "Sure. But can I have-"

"Turkey and Swiss," she finished for him, smiling softly, "Just a couple dabs of mustard and no crust. I remember, honey." She ruffled his hair, poured the lemonade from the heavy pitcher from him. "And it's may I, not can I." She kissed his head and sent him off.

The Comet had broken down. Again. Lucas had to wonder why they didn't just get rid of the bloody thing- then he remembered just how many memories it held for the two of them, not to mention the fact Peyton considered the Comet her baby. She would kill him for even thinking about harming her precious car.

"Bloody piece of shit!"

Lucas's sudden exclamation, followed by a string of dirty curses that would have turned any old-time sailor's head filled the garage. A head of messy chestnut hair peered out from behind the doorway, inquisitive brown eyes widening the slightest bit more with each oath that left Lucas's mouth, each more colorful than the last. Michael listened to his brother with rapt attention. "Wow," he whispered in awe.

At the sound of the quiet voice, Lucas's speech stopped abruptly, his head lifting in surprise. A pained yelp escaped him as his crown smacked into the hood of the car he was working on.

Michael blinked up at the older. Lucas grinned good-naturedly, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. "Eh heh. Hey, Mikey. Sorry about that. Didn't see you there."

Michael stared at his brother with a puzzled expression.

If Michael ever decided to repeat to his mother or honorary sister any of the colorful words he had heard, Lucas knew his fate was to be condemned to a lot of pain (more metaphorical and mental than physical, though just as torturing). Imagining all punishments that his wonderful girlfriend would inflict on him for corrupting her precious Keith Michael was not a pleasant thought.

"Er, listen kiddo. Let's not tell Mom or Peyton about any of those words I said, okay?"

Michael smirked. "Peyton would get mad at you, wouldn't she?"

"Exactly. Peyton can be a little scary when she's mad."

Michael frowned. "Peyton's not scary."

"The innocence of youth," Lucas mumbled to himself.

Before Lucas could answer further, Michael shook his head. "Alright, Luke. I won't tell Peyton."

Lucas breathed a sigh of relief, his body relaxing as he leaned against the car. "Thanks a lot, kiddo. You've saved my life."

Setting Lucas's glass aside, the five-year-old shrugged, already crossing the room to retrieve the small stool Lucas kept in the corner. With the extra height, he stood beside his brother, leaning over the open hood of the car to study the inner workings below. "What's wrong with it?"

Lucas scratched his head, huffing as he turned his attention back to the motor. "Dunno. Something with the carburator, I think."

His young face intense with concentration, Michael leaned over further in an attempt to gain a closer look. "Luke?"

"Hmm?"

"I won't tell Peyton if you teach me how this thing works."

"Deal, little man."

Later that afternoon, as Peyton cleaned up Michael's coloring materials and looked down to admire his work, she couldn't help but smile at the picture of the two figures bent over the open hood of what was clearly her car, working together.

Looks like both her favorite boys took after their father more than they realized.

**--**

"Mikey-mike!!"

"Jimmy-jam!!"

Exclamations rang through the air as Michael and Jamie Scott caught sight of each other from across the park, the cousins eagerly running to get to the other. Hugs, laughter and excited chatter ensued as Nathan leisurely strolled up to the bench Peyton was sitting on, giving her a warm smile as he seated himself beside her. "Hey, Sawyer."

"What's up, Nate?" she leaned over to hug him.

"Nothing much. The monster's just a step away from putting himself in a sugar coma. Hales practically kicked me out the door so I could let him run it off."

Peyton laughed as she looked over at the playing boys, noticing three-year-old Jamie was nearly running circles around his older cousin. "So I here you and Haley are planning to make this one a permanent stay."

"Yep," Nathan smiled, "I hear the same thing about you."

"Hmm-mm."

"That's good, Sawyer. Really good. Luke's really been missing you."

"He's not the only one…speaking of missing…" she turned her head, "Michael, come here, baby, and say hi to Nathan."

Michael obeyed, giving Jamie his hand as both boys trekked back to the adults, Michael releasing the younger so he could give his eldest cousin a greeting squeeze. "Hiya, Nate!! I missed you."

"Missed you too, buddy." Nathan ruffled his hair. "You been playing much b-ball lately?"

"Yep," Michael plopped himself down beside the dark-haired man, "Lucas plays with me all the time."

"Ice cream! Special delivery!"

A grinning Lucas appeared before them, two ice cream cones in hand. His smile turned into an inquisitive look at the sight of Nathan, shrugging it off as he handed the other two their desserts- chocolate for Peyton, strawberry for Michael. Michael immediately dug into his, happily piping up beneath mouthfuls, "Thank you, Lukey!!"

Lucas blinked at the nickname, narrowing his eyes in Peyton's direction. She stared back at him, the very picture of innocence. "Don't look at me. I had nothing to do with it."

Michael looked up at the woman beside him. "But Peyton, you said he'd like it if I called him Lukey."

Peyton winced and Lucas's dark look became a glare. "Sawyer," he growled, "You've got to the count of three."

Her eyes widened. "You wouldn't."

"One."

"Seriously, Luke."

"Two."

Realizing he was serious, Peyton thrust her cone into a bewildered Nathan's hand. "Hold that." With that, she leapt to her feet.

"Three!"

They took off.

Peyton bolted from him, quick with her long legs and light weight. But Lucas was a natural runner, quickly gaining on her as they raced across the grass. She pulled a sharp turn to the right, throwing him off balance. He cursed under his breath as he faltered against the wet grass, catching himself as he slid to one knee. He regained his footing, scowling at the smirking Peyton standing a few feet away, hands on her hips as she watched him amusedly. "Ready to give up, Scott?"

"Not even close, Sawyer. We'll see how quick you can get away on those chicken legs of yours."

And once more, away they went.

With time, they came to one of the center fountains, finally at a stalemate as they circled around and around, neither willing to give in. As he neared, she pulled a turnabout, looking to take off in the opposite direction. He cut her off, however, and see his chance, he pounced. Peyton squealed with surprise as he caught her around the waist, hefting her over his shoulder.

She protested loudly, pounding on his back as he trucked back across the park. Her irritation only rose as she felt him shaking with laughter and she retaliated by biting down hard on his back. He grunted with the brief pain, reaching up to chidingly slap her thigh. "Behave," he told her sternly.

She sputtered with indignation. "Are you serious?! I cannot believe you, you ass. Put me down, Neanderthal."

"As you wish, Princess."

Caught off guard by his sudden acquiescence, she craned up her neck to look at him suspiciously- no small feat when she was hanging over the shoulder of a 6'1'' man- panicking as she realized they were dangerously close to the shore of the duck pond. "Lucas Scott, don't you dare!"

She just knew he was grinning. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You throw me in that water and I'll never talk to you again."

He shrugged. "My life would be a hell of a lot quieter."

New game plan, then. "If you get me the least bit wet, I swear to God I'll make it so you'll never have any more children."

Lucas froze and she suddenly realized her slip of tongue. "More children? What do you mean?"

Peyton flushed, glad he couldn't see her embarrassment. "I…"

Gently, he lowered her to her feet, placing his hands on her shoulders to steady her. Shaking off the sudden sense of vertigo, she forced herself to meet his eyes. "Peyton, what did you mean?"

"I…" she was mortified to realize she was still blushing, "When he was a baby, I'd sometimes forget, and I kinda thought of Michael as ours. It's stupid, I know, but it's just a feeling I got sometimes."

He smiled. "It's not stupid," he leaned down, rubbing his nose against hers in a tender Eskimo kiss, much like she had done countless times when Michael was younger, "Want to hear a secret? Sometimes I pretended Michael was ours too. That he was our baby."

She regarded him shyly, nervously biting her lip. "Do you want that? Our baby?"

"More than anything." He hesitated, looking equally as shy, "I know this isn't the most romantic of settings, but there's something I've wanted to ask you since you left."

Her heart began to race. "Yeah?"

He leaned his forehead against her. "I love you, Peyton. More than I could ever say. Will you marry me?"

There was only one reply she could really give him. "Absolutely." She kissed, smiling softly, "I'm gonna love you forever, Lucas Scott. I'd love nothing more than to marry you."

He let out a breath of relief. "Good."

She arched an eyebrow. "Good?"

"Amazing. Spectacular. Mind-blowing. Fantastic. Perfect. And…I'm running out of adjectives."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his head down to her. "Who needs words?" she whispered coyly, before pressing her lips to his.

**--**

Final Author's Note: And that's the end, ladies and gentlemen. I could, in theory, keep going, but I've honestly run out of plotlines. This wasn't meant to be very long to start with, but it just kinda evolved with the response I got. Besides that…I've got Running to Stand Still and Lullaby to work on now. Just let me say, dear readers, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. And thank you for all those wonderful reviews. I love you guys for those. Truly.

Thank you again. Until next time,

Alaricnomad


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